


Serenity in the Snow

by Elasmosaurus



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coitus Interruptus, Edgeplay, F/M, Felix's turn because it's Christmas, Hapivain Agenda™, It's not felileth if there isn't oral, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut, Sparring, Sreng (Fire Emblem), friend shenanigans, there's a lot of plot though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elasmosaurus/pseuds/Elasmosaurus
Summary: Felix snickered at her when Byleth stood on a box to get Amaymon’s tack on and attach the saddlebags. Byleth wasn’t about to let him get away with laughing at her, not over something like height when he was sensitive about it too. She kicked out at him. He spun to the side, easily dodging her attack, as expected. A playfulness lit his amber eyes that filled Byleth with equal parts excitement and dread.Byleth and Felix visit Castle Gautier to assist with the Srengi peace talks, and spend some quality time with each other and their friends in the process. Featuring some heavy Srengi worldbuilding because I can't help myself.WIP Title: Snow JobWritten for Sayl for the Felileth SS Exchange, covering all 5 prompts! snowed in, hot springs, spiked drinks, snowball fight, proposal in the snow
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth, Hapi & My Unit | Byleth, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hapi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20
Collections: Felileth Secret Santa 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sayl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayl/gifts).



> Thanks to:  
> Featherhearted for bouncing ideas and beta-ing a chunk with flow issues and coming up with the WIP title  
> Saviana for beta-ing a chunk with flow issues  
> Mechawa and Charley for beta-ing half of this each  
> Wyverntail for bouncing ideas and helping me with this massively and generally being awesome  
> Sayl for being awesome  
> The Felileth Server for jumping on board my idea for us to do a Secret Santa!  
> Felileth and Hapivain for vaguely behaving when I wrote this

Gautier Castle cut a cold, forbidding silhouette into the landscape. The fortress was oppressive, designed to keep those of lower stations in their place and to serve as a stalwart base to control Sregni incursions. An impending sense of dread seeped out of the stonework, increasing in intensity as they rode up to the walls. As soon as she saw Sylvain’s home, Byleth understood. So much made sense now.

Margrave Gautier was not a pleasant man. He was disinterested in anything but remaining in power. So Byleth visited in her official capacity as archbishop to depose him. Felix made the trip to support his friend. A signed and sealed letter stating his requirement to stand down, pass the castle over to his heir and retire to the warmer climes of Adrestia was read over with the same disapproving eyes Byleth was sure Sylvain had seen for all his years. It was almost enough to make her feel sorry for Miklan, to understand his plight.

Almost.

She could still never forgive him for endangering her students, the people who had now become dearest to her. The ones she had chosen to call friends, family...lover.

The three of them stood on the castle steps to wave off the old guard. Despite hating every second of her official duties as archbishop and shucking them onto Seteth wherever possible, Byleth anointed Sylvain into the position of Margrave Gautier personally. It was a small affair, but open to any of the peoples of Gautier who wished to be there. A dinner was held for all in attendance, music was played, barrels of wine consumed.

In a quiet moment, Byleth pulled Sylvain aside and into a broom closet. He’d long since learnt not to make smart comments to his former professor - her elbows were sharper than Felix’s - so he kept his mouth shut until he found out why they were there. The blank faced swordstress said nothing, just stared at him with those unsettling eyes she sometimes made. Only the sounds of their breathing filled the closet. It was barely large enough for them to fit without touching. The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable amount of time, and Sylvain nervously rubbed the back of his neck. He narrowly avoided leaving Byleth with a black eye in the process. The quiet made him uneasy, so Sylvain filled it.

“It should have been the four of us up there today.”

Byleth’s small smile lit up the cramped space as she nodded, her eyes softening. “When can I expect to hear from Margrave and Margravine Gautier?”

“They  _ just _ rode south, By. I’m sure reports of their progress will be on your desk when you return to the monastery.”

Byleth gave Sylvain one of her deadpan looks, making it very clear she knew he was avoiding the question.

A hundred excuses built on the tip of his tongue: It was too soon, there was work still to be done before considering it, it wasn’t the right time, peace was more important, the people wouldn’t accept it, he had no idea how to court her properly, he didn’t know how to seek out her parents to ask for permission first, he didn't know if she'd want him to, why would she want him anyway.

None of them sounded good enough to him, so Sylvain knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Byleth.

“I don’t know. But I’ll get my act together soon. I can’t lose her.”

“See to it that you don’t,” Byleth replied, spinning on her heels to seek out her own lover.

Sylvain thought it was a little unfair he was being pushed into marriage (albeit one he wanted, at least) by those two when they currently had no plans to wed, but he trusted his old professor. His new friend. He needed the shove.

~~~

**_Two Years Later_ **

Gautier Castle was a welcoming sight in the distance after Byleth’s long ride from Garreg Mach to Fraldarius, then on to their final destination. Turrets, once a harsh reminder of the castle’s domineering presence in the north, now wore banners in Kingdom, Gautier and Srengi colours. Strange how the cool blue of Faerghus could warm the once cold stones. Deep purples decorated with a white fox demonstrated the lift in tensions as the region overcame deep rooted prejudices against the Srengi. The shade reminded Byleth of the southern aubergines Felix refused to eat. Vibrant greens and deep reds marked the fortress as home to their dearest friends, so reminiscent of the typical tones for the festive time of year. It all clashed horribly, to be sure, but not as badly as the awful trickster’s outfit she’d made Felix wear as a teacher in a deliberate attempt to see how far she could push him. 

Byleth let her horse lead them on the familiar trail to Gautier, lost in thought. She recalled how the yellow against the blue was an affront to everyone’s eyesight. Byleth was sure she’d seen some enemies run away rather than have to look at Felix for a second longer. Shame he was so competitive that he went along with the awful getup. Naturally, she’d pushed it further, and made him the Blue Lion’s dancer for the White Heron Cup. It had nothing to do with her dislike for dancing lessons. Nothing to do with the fact that dancing with Felix could evolve into a sparring session instead. Definitely wasn’t due to how beautifully deadly he looked spinning with a sword in hand, fabric flowing around him while he moved as one with the blade, the dusky light reflecting off his Wo Dao until she was so mesmerised he’d been able to land a blow on her. Felix had a fatal grace that commanded your complete attention.

It took her some much needed ribbing from Hapi after sleeping for five years to realise what those new feelings meant. Then another year to end the war and feel settled to understand it. She’d noticed Felix looking at her, but Byleth convinced herself that he was just admiring her form as a swordmaster. Just like she did his. Just like everyone else did, surely? It had convinced her, if not anyone else, until Hapi pointed out that she didn’t look at Yuri that way. Smug bastard confirmed it with a pout and a quip she couldn’t hear over the rush of her pulse in her ears. Because people didn’t just look at each other like that. So if they were, then what did that  _ mean, _ exactly? 

Apparently, it meant running into Felix on a balcony where they made a promise to stay together through everything, no matter how hard it got. 

Sounds of life began to carry from beyond the castle walls as they drew ever closer. Separation was difficult, but made the times they spent together more precious. And the  _ sparring. _ She beat him that time when they were training him as a dancer. Since, they’d had so much time to grow together. His sad smile whenever he bested her, always a reminder of what he’d lost, haunted Byleth even as she chased it desperately. Not desperately enough to make it easy for him. He had to earn Byleth’s defeat at his hands. They both liked it better that way.

It made them the least favourite aunt and uncle with Dimitri and Marianne’s children, or Ingrid and Ashe’s, because they didn’t let them win. But how else would they learn? Life hadn’t let any of the Blue Lions, the Golden Deer, or the Black Eagles win. Everyone fought so hard to live. No-one wanted a repeat of the war, but their children needed to be prepared. The Faerghan way was as hard as its people, but it kept them alive. Byleth hoped war was long behind them now, but she’d ensure the little ones of those she cared about were suitably equipped to deal with it if they needed to.

Seven years ago, she’d felt woefully inadequate as a teacher or mentor. Now, it came naturally to her. A role she had been forced into, but that suited her nonetheless. Unlike Archbishop. She kept trying to convince Seteth that Flayn would be much better at the role than she was. Especially because it meant Byleth would be able to spend more time at her true home. The North suited her. Harsh but caring. She preferred the north’s bluntness to the flowery half truths told by the nobles and their children she had to deal with as Archbishop and teacher.

At least the peace talks demanded the presence of a church official so she’d been able to escape to see her friends. Byleth sighed longingly at the comforting stone walls as they passed through them.

Gautier Castle was no longer forced into its unfriendly reputation. Its halls were full of love, the ringing of laughter and happiness echoing through the very foundations to lift the mood of all who saw the fortress. A beacon of hope, of the new world they were trying to build. A peaceful sanctuary.

Peace. They’d come so far to get here. The official signing of the peace treaty and trade agreements between Fódlan and Sreng had demanded all of Sylvain’s daylight hours. His nighttime hours were filled with laughter, and moans, and the occasional wild beast, if Hapi’s letters were to be believed. Byleth adored receiving updates from all of her surviving students. She didn’t play favourites. At least, that was what she had told everyone whilst repeatedly assigning Sylvain and Hapi stable duty, or Dedue and Ashe gardening duty, or scheduling choir practice with Yuri and Dorothea, leaving the worst jobs for...well.

Byleth didn’t have favourite students, although a few of them had wormed their way into her unbeating heart a bit further than the rest. She’d connected with Hapi over coffee, the shadier aspects of the church (which, try as she might to convince him, Seteth refused to listen about) and a shared love of horses. Sylvain, though...after  _ that _ conversation on crests, she would've happily never spoken to him again. Unfortunately, he came as a package deal with Felix. It nearly made her reconsider Felix.

It was okay in the end; he'd eventually grown on Byleth. Hapi worked wonders on his abrasive personality. Plus, she made Felix make his shitty behaviour up to her. For every night Sylvain’s antics kept her awake, Byleth woke Felix up for a spar to wear herself out. Nowadays, she appreciated Sylvain’s skill at getting under Felix’s skin.

Townspeople appeared in their doorways to steal glimpses of the famous war heroes as the horses continued along the road to the castle proper. Byleth smiled at a small girl desperately clinging on to her mother's skirts, half hiding behind them in shyness. The tentative wave she got back reminded her of how much she enjoyed watching people grow. Including herself. In hindsight, she was blind. Sexual tension oozed from their parries and repostes even then. By a small miracle, or perhaps their single focus when wielding a blade, neither of them had ended a spar pinning the other down and it leading to more.

Flustering Felix so she could win a bout was one of her favourite things. Easy enough to do. Lean into a swing at the right angle and oops - bare shoulder. Oh no,  _ however _ did the string holding her blouse together get in the way of his sword? Felix made the prettiest little pout when she played dirty, then made his signature scowl that really got her going when she told him as much. Byleth chuckled quietly, barely audible over the clicking of horseshoes on cobbled streets.

“What?”

Intense amber eyes stared up into hers as his voice dragged her back to the present. Of course he heard her, or sensed something - during the war Felix could somehow make out an enemy assassin in the most dense conifer forest. He was always irritable on horseback. Moreso when Byleth took Amaymon, and joined the legions of people who towered over him. He wasn’t short, his friends were just abnormally large, but he was annoyed about it. So naturally, Byleth loved to tease him about it.

“Nothing, shortie. You should try smiling for your  _ adoring fans.” _ Byleth emphasised her point by nodding at another doorway. The son that stood in this one waved a toy sword in salute at them, copying a simple but effective flourish Felix had become well known for using after the war.

Anyone who saw him use it during the war closed their eyes forever.

Felix started grumbling at her when fast paced hoofbeats sounded behind them. Walking was mandatory under the town rules so people didn’t get trampled. It was also easier to spot trouble. Instinctively, Byleth spun Amy around, sword drawn. Felix dismounted quickly. Both prepared a ready position, years of training and war kicking inFelixas he moved forwards to protect Byleth’s mount; she used her vantage point to scout for danger. Counting the beats, Byleth deduced there were at least three advancing riders travelling at a gallop. It was just riders they’d need to contend with - no foot units could keep up with that speed. In preparation, she flicked the Sword of the Creator into whip position. Better to scare oncoming horses with. A slim chance they’d throw their riders, putting her and Felix at an advantage. Amy wasn’t armoured, Byleth realised with a pang. Internally she was debating the merits of dismounting herself to protect her horse when a flash of purple cantered into view. Byleth's lungs ached from involuntarily holding her breath. She gulped in the crisp air, pre-fight tension melting out of her. It took residence in the streets instead as doors and blinds snapped shut.

Progress was slow, especially for those from Gautier territory, but people were coming to accept the Srengi. Byleth left Felix to remount as she urged Amaymon forward to meet the party of three delegates at a trot. If they were breaking the rules, she could too.

_ “May your ice stay strong,” _ Byleth called, slowing Amy to a stop. The party did the same. She accompanied the words by running two fingers down in front of her face and curling her hand into a fist that rested above her heart. Instead of returning the formal greeting gesture of their homeland, the dark skinned warriors bowed their heads, demonstrating the proper etiquette to formally acknowledge a Fódlani noble.

“Walking only within the walls.  _ It is written. For the safety of the tribe.”  _ Byleth slipped into more of the few Srengi phrases she knew how to pronounce correctly to emphasise the point. There wasn’t an equivalent for townsfolk. The delegates nodded.

“What is he doing?” Heavily accented, but perfect Fódlani echoed loudly down the street. She heard Felix’s annoyed grunt in response.

“Mounting up. From the look on your faces though, it sounds like he’s failing.” Byleth grinned at them, forgetting not to flash her teeth until it was too late. She recovered the slight by placing a splayed hand over her clavicle and dipping her head, looking at the floor in deference.

_ “Tree and Cinder Daemon, be one with the land spirit,” _ the frontmost rider reassured her, and Byleth relaxed. ‘Be one with the land spirit’ sounded much better than ‘at ease,’ but she was probably biased. The rightmost rider’s eyes narrowed as he appraised her.

“You know our speech and ways.”

_ “Some,” _ she responded in Srengi, glancing at the markings on his saddle blanket.  _ “Thunder?” _

“I am named Keme. My brother -” Keme pointed at the leftmost rider. Brother didn’t mean they were related, but there was a similarity in the slope of their jaws and the curve of their noses. “ - is Achachak.” The word didn’t sound how Byleth expected it to, but she was sure it meant spirit. He was an assassin type, slim figure with corded muscles concealing great strength. A fond smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she resisted the urge to look back at her own assassin. “The Khagan -” Byleth stiffened. They’d sent the leader of the tribes and clans himself? The man was much younger than Byleth expected, but then the Khagan she knew of was old and addled by ancient injuries, nearing the end of his rule. The frontmost man did have an easy, commanding presence. Byleth was curious to know what went on behind the unreadable glacier of those piercing eyes. “- is Megedagik.”

Ah. His name confirmed it. Kills many. Yet, Byleth didn’t feel threatened by the three riders. Instead, she felt a kinship, as she did with all that were raised as warriors for battle. Enough blood had been spilled, they were here to heal old wounds, not create new ones. Treaties required trust. The mercenary in her said trust no-one. Seeing first hand what his inability to trust had done to Claude, though...to the wars it created...never again. Even Felix had come to accept the strength that came from cooperation, rather than walking alone. It may not have taken the shape Claude had imagined, but Byleth could still help the Almyran king realise his dream of a continent united. Anything for her former students, after all they’d been through.

“Felix Fraldarius is better on the feet than the -” Achachak fell quiet with an annoyed grunt.

“Tiastin?” She offered, and the man nodded. The literal translation of the Srengi word for horse was ‘life’ in Fódlani, because of how they relied on the sure-footed, hardy ponies in the colder tundra conditions north of the border.

It was peculiar to think of anywhere more northern and perilously frozen than Faerghus.

Yet the many layers of heavy furs the delegates wore, sealskin on the outside that reeked of the blubber it was treated with to keep waterproof, the thick coats of their ponies, the slight beads of sweat on their foreheads in the Faerghan chill provided clear evidence it was true. Even her threats to set Flayn up on a date or two hadn’t convinced Seteth to allow Byleth to go north for the start of the peace talks, but he did relent into giving her a book on the language that she devoured. When the official request came for someone from the church to give the peace treaty an official sanction, Seteth realised his mistake. By then it was too late. One with a working knowledge of Srengi would be a boon to the affair, especially when they were well known warriors. Strength was valued above all north of the border. Playing Seteth added to her excitement as Byleth helped her former students achieve their hopes for the future. Byleth and Felix needed to be there for Sylvain, and for Hapi. 

“You stop us moving on the castle,” Keme stated.

“Walk,” Byleth repeated with the authority of her teacher voice, turning Amy around. She gestured for them to go ahead.

“You do not trust us.” A resigned but angry disappointment clouded Khagan Megedagik’s stern brow.

“I don’t show my back unguarded to those I don’t trust,” she retorted over her shoulder.

Laughter broke out behind her, and the delegates rode into view. “Indeed,” Megedagik agreed as their horses fell into step, his companions behind them.

Felix had abandoned trying to get back into the saddle, leading his horse up towards the castle portcullis by foot. Achachak commented on it in Srengi, speaking quickly in the hope Byleth wouldn’t hear. She did, and to their surprise, laughed with them. Conversation flowed easily between the four as they traded questions in a mix of Srengi and Fódlani whilst their horses plodded along the road and through the portcullis to where Sylvain and Hapi waited to greet them.

~~~

A tense silence fell over the dining room after the Srengi excused themselves for the night. Talks went badly - the redrawn borders agreed by all parties months ago had been hotly contested with no sign of a satisfactory compromise in sight.

It had been a long time since Byleth saw Sylvain looking so dejected, watching the negotiations for his dreams fall apart. His arms were wrapped around Hapi’s waist where she sat in his lap, her head buried in his neck as she curled into his chest. Byleth glanced at Felix across the table and tilted her head. His face was completely unreadable. He was hiding something.

Byleth kicked him under the table. They didn’t have secrets any more. Felix jolted upright, shooting her a vicious glare she returned with the sweetest, butter wouldn't melt smile. A small eye roll criticised the smile, so Byleth switched to her neutral face. The expectant one that said “I’ll wait however long you need, but you  _ will _ tell me.” Felix rested his elbows on the table as he sat forwards, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Not unusual for him, but it felt very deliberate.

Sylvain’s brow furrowed. “Fe?”

Felix sighed. “I think I know what they want,” he said to the table. “Something Seteth told me.”

Hapi sat up at the mention of his name, her spine wound so tight the slightest breeze could snap it. Seteth had been good to them, sure, but he was still important within the church. She’d never accepted any of his apologies for her treatment, shunned into Abyss to be feared by all. Eventually, he stopped trying to make them.

“Felix?” A demanding yet warning edge worked its way into Sylvain’s voice as he encouraged his friend to elaborate.

“I know what you think of him Hapi, but he’s a good man. It was after the Red Wolf Moon attempt to call a truce, when Dimitri marched the whole army south for two nights at Garreg Mach.” Felix glanced up at Byleth, remembering the time together they had been gifted. She nodded for him to continue.

“We talked then, about how you get warring tribes who don’t want peace to agree terms. Offer them something they can’t refuse. Oil. Rhea pushed Lambert and Rodrigue to subjugate the Sreng peninsula to control the deposits and gave the land to Gautier to protect. There's oil under Gautier territory.”

Hapi rose, stepping away from the table. Felix could feel her anger from here. Even Sylvain knew better than to reach out for her in her current mood. He attempted eye contact for a second, but the blazing fury in hers made him drop it quickly.

Felix felt an uncharacteristic need to defend his old man. The way she was looking at him and Sylvain, the sins of their fathers were being visited upon them. “Seteth swore they didn’t know.”

“Because the church never lies.”

Byleth sat very still, trying to stay as far out of the brewing argument as possible. Her succession as Archbishop was a point of contention in her friendship with Hapi. It was only bridged through history - late nights stargazing whilst blaspheming - and assurances that she’d rebuild the foundations of the church to help people. It was a harder battle to win than the war, but eventually Hapi relented that she could trust Byleth to lead the church. So no, Byleth was not going to get involved.

Felix shrugged. “You met Rodrigue. For all his faults, he was an honourable man. So was Lambert. They wouldn’t have done it if they knew.”

“They called the ones who experimented on me honourab;e.” Hapi paused for long enough to let the weight of the words sink in. “You have to give them the land, ‘Nova.” Her tone made it clear it wasn’t a request. Byleth stared at her lap to avoid the anguish on Sylvain’s face.

“I’d give them everything for you,” Sylvain’s voice was soft, “but I can’t. I don’t have that power. Dimitri agreed two sets of border lines, what the Khagan’s asking for isn’t in the farthest reaches of what I can offer.”

“So more have to suffer because of the stupid church!?” 

"Sticking to the agreed lines will speed up an end to the suffering and more needless death," Sylvain instinctively slipped into his horse voice to placate Hapi and  _ Seiros, _ was that a mistake.

“DON’T talk to me like that! Dismiss me like an animal! You know it’s wrong. Do something about it.”

Forgotten now, Felix shuffled in his chair, positioning himself as far away from the couple as he could. He kept his eyes trained on his empty plate, stealing occasional glances at Byleth to see if they could leave. She was too busy pushing the scraps of fat around her plate. Byleth ensured her fork didn’t scrape against the ceramic, but there was no point to her carefulness. Nothing else could set the nerves of the quartet in the room any more on edge.

Sylvain’s pleading anguish took on a resigned steel. Felix had seen it before on the battlefield, when Sylvain was preparing to take an injury to save someone else. He had a nasty lance scar under his left shoulder blade that should have been Felix's. The emotional ones from this fight should have been Dimitri's.

“I’m doing what I  _ can _ about it, Hapi,” Sylvain said calmly, without the soothing-a-spooked-mount edge. But the earlier damage was done. It was obvious from her posture, arms crossed in front of her, and the frown that Hapi was closed off to anything else he had to say.

“Hapi, you don’t understand. We’ve been taught this since we were young. There’s a process to follow, stages to negotiation. I have to think of our people, too. It’s not that simple -”

She cut him off. “Oh, so the commoner doesn’t get it because I wasn’t brought up good enough for you?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Well ‘what you can’ isn’t good enough for me, Sylvain. Do better.” She said it so casually, it hurt more.

“Hapi -” Some deserved anger slipped into Sylvain’s voice, and things quickly spiralled out of control.

Was Byleth really just going to let them argue it out?

Was it worth Felix incurring Hapi's wrath again by speaking up for Sylvain and their parents?

Definitely yes, and definitely not. They both kept their heads down literally and figuratively while their friends argued. At one point, Felix considered reminding Hapi and Sylvain that the delegates could probably hear them - if not the words then the general gist of them being divided - which would put Fódlan in a bad position for talks tomorrow, but the clench of Felix’s jaw was too busy keeping any comments on how he’d rather be listening to Dimitri lecture him on duty than here. Anywhere else but here.

Margravine Gautier had the same idea apparently, as Hapi stormed out of the room. Paintings of the previous Gautiers shook from the violent force of the slammed door, their eyes silently judging. Sylvain winced at the noise, exhaling slowly. Always empathetic to his wife; even when she wasn’t around, even when they were arguing, even when she’d cut him so deeply. A kicked puppy surely looked less despondent than he did now, forced into the formal attire of a man who’d wrecked his life, wondering why he wasn’t enough for any of the people who were supposed to care for him.

Byleth looked at Sylvain, and once again, she understood.

Scraping wood against the stone floor broke the ‘silence’ in the room. Byleth and Felix knew him well enough to give Sylvain the decency of pretending he wasn’t crying. A small hand gripped his shoulder firmly as Byleth came to stand next to him, facing the door.

“You are so much better than them.” She stared defiantly into the oppressive brown eyes around the room, daring them to challenge her. Byleth was talking to his shitty ancestors as much as to Sylvain himself. “You are  _ more _ than enough.” A pause, before she added, “I’m proud of you.”

He let out an audible sob everyone ignored. Byleth turned to look at Felix so they could have one of their infamous wordless conversations. Sylvain had once joked that they could talk for an hour with eyerolls, pointed looks, body language and facial expressions. They tried it during a morning watch. He wasn’t wrong. Byleth’s judgemental eyes held Felix’s and clearly said  _ “I blame you for the argument.” _

_ How is it my fault!?  _ He responded with an indignant look.

_ You KNOW not to bring up the church. _ Byleth’s eyes widened to emphasise her point.

_ I was TRYING to help. _ She didn’t appreciate Felix’s eye roll any more than his so-called “help”.

_ FIX. IT. _

_ No, no, no, By, Byleth, BYLETH EISNER DON’T LEAVE ME to deal with FEELINGS _ \- but it was too late, she’d already turned away from him and was halfway out the door to seek Hapi.

Felix didn’t know what to do. Even when he wasn’t okay, Sylvain pretended to be, or wanted you to pretend he was. Sylvain fixed his friend’s problems, not the other way round. Sylvain patched up his cuts and scrapes, wiped away his tears, until Felix had pushed him away aged 10 saying he was too old for that now. For exactly one second, Felix let himself miss his family, the childhood he and Sylvain had shared with Didi and Ingrid, the simpler times. But he was a man of action, and firmly believed dwelling on the past did more harm than good. So he stood up, dragged his chair over to sit next to Sylvain, and bumped their shoulders together in a show of solidarity.

He looked at Sylvain’s cheeks rather than his eyes. Felix couldn’t deal with the emotion in them right now. He had an idea to get the usual cheeky mirth back into them.

“Want to go to town and pick up some girls?”

And straight away, a flash of that cocky confidence was back. “I would, but I don’t think my girl’s going to be there,” Sylvain said with a weak grin. “Or in our bed.” A troubled look fell over his face again.

“Not sure there’d be space for her with all of you,” Felix gestured at his friend’s bulk, “and your ego in it.”

_ “Hey!” _   
  


“Or my ‘pointy elbows’.”

Sylvain looked confused for a minute, then let out a genuine laugh when he got it.

“Like when we were kids?”

“Like when we were kids,” Felix confirmed, shoving Sylvain to his feet. “Maybe one change though.” He swiped a bottle of wine from the table as they walked the much practised path to Sylvain’s childhood room.


	2. Chapter 2

“What is this now, anyway?” Felix was incredibly grateful the bed was already made up as they fell into it. The day's emotional toll sat heavily on him, and physically he wasn't doing much better. His eyes burned as he forced them to remain open.

“‘Sposed to be a guest room, but we never put anyone in here.”

Then why was it made up? Unless.... “How often do you have to sleep in here?” Felix did not disguise the judgement in his voice, but Sylvain just laughed.

“I guarantee not as often as you think.”

Felix snorted derisively.

Sylvain grabbed the wine bottle to take a swig, before passing it to Felix. “Can’t believe I’m married. Can believe you’re not, though, grouchy.”

All of Felix’s self control went into not reacting to Sylvain. Instead, he decided to play the redhead’s game.

“I’ve got more moves than you. Who ended up with the professor everyone wanted?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sylvain said dismissively, grabbing the bottle again. “Sure, I struck out, but Yuri’s  _ totally _ still in with a chance to steal her, because you aren’t married. Know who the smarmy charming bad boy trickster can’t steal? My  _ wife. _ Have you  _ seen _ her?” Sylvain's eyes lit up when he talked about Hapi. Felix could see all the wheels turning in his head as he tripped over his thoughts trying to assemble them into something he could share.

Felix took another gulp of the wine, and waited for his friend.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

He’d never heard Sylvain sound so small. Felix didn’t have to think before he replied “You  _ both _ did.” He looked down at his friend, burrowed underneath the covers. “Sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I just love her so much, Fe,” Sylvain whispered, his voice cracking.

Felix rubbed Sylvain’s arm. “I know. She knows. There are people in Morfis who know.”

“Wow, way to ruin it Felix,” Sylvain chided, but his voice was fond and sleepy as he stifled a yawn.

“Whatever. I’m sleeping now.”

“Night, Fe.”

“Night, Syl.”

Sleep didn’t come to Felix quickly, however, as he mulled over his friend’s comments about marriage.

~~~

Byleth found Hapi out on the balcony of her and Felix’s chambers. It was the one Felix allegedly stayed in when he visited Gautier as a child, but Byleth correctly suspected they spent more time sharing Sylvain’s bed than in their separate bedrooms. None of the other Blue Lions had designated quarters in Gautier. Sure, they usually ended up in the same guest rooms, but they were  _ guest  _ rooms. These rooms were  _ Byleth and Felix’s  _ rooms.

It felt welcoming. Unlike Hapi’s general aura right now, which felt murderous. Byleth was used to it. If you could kill a person with just a look, she and Felix would be dead many times over. Murderous glares were part of how they said “I love you.”

She’d thrown her hands up in a defensive gesture, deliberately mimicking the one Sylvain usually used, when Hapi rounded on her as she walked into the room. Then rubbed her neck with one hand, elbow in the air, when Hapi’s fury didn’t subside.

“You’re doing that on purpose, Chatterbox,” Hapi accused. Byleth shrugged.

“Ugh, stop looking at me like that! Your green eyes are so judgy. I just want to be angry.”

They’d never admit it, but Hapi and Sylvain were very similar when it came to certain things. When they were like this, the best thing to do was to sit quietly and wait them out. It was going to be a long night, so Byleth made herself comfortable, sinking into the bed as she shuffled until her legs were crossed. Hapi remained where she was, staring up at the stars in the clear night sky. Over dinner, Achachak spoke of how the sky is illuminated with green lights at night during the dark months. He regaled them with tales of famous tribe leaders and Srengi beliefs that the lights are spirits of the departed trying to communicate with those they left behind. Achachak had been relatively sure the lights could still show this far south.

Time to earn her nickname. Or unearn it. “Have you heard of those lights before?”

“Sure, Chatterbox. Astronomers in my village called them the Aurora Borealis. I’ve never seen the lights before though. Always wanted to.”

“Are they really ancestor spirits trying to reach us?”

“I’m more inclined to believe their religion of ancestor and animal spirits than the stupid church. No offense.”

Byleth shrugged, nonchalant. “None taken.”

“I think...I’m impressed at how Felix didn’t react to the story about the lights being the spirits of the dead. He really hates that.”

“He tensed.”

“Only you saw that, Chatterbox,” she teased.

“Only you see Sylvain at his true best,” Byleth retorted, and the easiness of their stargazing session was gone.

Time for Byleth to double down.

“Earlier was...uncalled for.”

“He’s ashamed of me. Doesn’t value my opinions.”

Byleth laid back on the bed. She stared at the ceiling, a hand absentmindedly playing with the heavy drapes around the four-poster, as she channeled her inner Seteth.

“This world is different from ours. The waters are so cold you can die from the chill or because the breath leaves your body. Perilous ice covers it, making escape hard. He wants you to stay above water. To swim, not sink. But it’s Sylvain, so he sucks at conveying it.”

“He should trust me to swim for myself.”

“He saw me sink.” Byleth tried to glance up at her friend, but she couldn’t see past the mountain range of her chest. Pillows rustled as she flopped her head back down. “He’s trying to protect you because of it.”

“I’m not some weak girl. Been a long time since I had that privilege. I don’t need protection from anyone. People need protection from me.”

Byleth’s stomach muscles ached as she used her core to pull herself into a seated position, meeting Hapi’s eyes. “Neither of those things are true.”

Hapi made a face at her.

“Really?” Byleth threw back. “So you’ll happily do the Gautier Lord Court day, and deal with land disputes and thefts and arguments over betrothals and -”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It’s expected of you as Margravine. But he protects you from it, because you would  _ hate _ it.”

“Another example of how he doesn’t value my opinion.”

“You two need to learn to talk,” Byleth said under her breath, but loud enough for Hapi to hear. “Sylvain shouldn’t have talked down to you. But the nobles have been studying how to run a territory since they were five years old. Today, he said you didn’t understand. That’s his fault. You should have been given the proper education, and he  _ definitely _ should not have used his horse voice.”

“I’m sensing there’s a but here.”

_ “However,” _ Byleth taunted, “Do better?”

Hapi hung her head in her hands.

“In front of the family.”

She groaned. “Okay, okay, enough emoting. I get it. I was bad to Syl.”

Byleth grinned. “Progress.”

“But he was also bad to me.”

“Yes.” Byleth’s tone was even, her face blank to match. They were both true statements. “Also, no-one needs protection from you,” she said, matter of factly.

“Chatterbox, I know I’m dangerous.”

“You married Sylvain, and somehow this place is still standing. Mention it to people who talk. I always do.” Byleth stole a glance at her friend, a wry smile on her face. “They sigh as soon as they hear his name. Hypocrites. So then I stare at them until they get it and walk away embarrassed.”

“You’re a weird one, Chatterbox.”

“You can talk. You married Sylvain Jose Gautier.”   
  


“You told me to!”

“I also told him to ask you, too. Well, I was silent until he admitted he needed to. He just has to fill those silences.”

“I’m still mad.”

“You have every right to be. Don’t forget that he does, too.”

Hapi’s snort was swallowed by the sound of knocking at the door. An attentive maid brought them a bottle of wine to share and forced them under the covers, drawing the bed’s thick curtains around them to keep the warmth in.

When the bottle was finished, Byleth snuggled up to Hapi. "You're much more comfy in bed than Felix. Those sharp edges I love so much? They're sharp."

“Because Felix Fraldarius screams soft and squishy,” Hapi retorted sardonically.

“Shhhhhhhh.” Byleth sleepily - or drunkenly, Hapi couldn’t tell which - put a finger to her lips. “Sleep time now.”

Hapi laughed at her. “Sleep well, Chatterbox.”

“You too,” her former professor managed before passing out.

~~~

The second day of final negotiations went...better. Not much better, but definitely better. Both sides showed some give in the border lines they would accept. Overall, though, Fódlan and Sreng were still at a stalemate, not quite able to marry what the Khagan wanted within what Sylvain could give.

Byleth’s biggest mistake had been not forcing the Margrave and Margravine to interact before the talks. The overall mood at the negotiating table was civil enough, but Byleth had been caught in snowstorms warmer than the atmosphere between her friends.

Megedagik wisely excused himself and his friends from dinner. Byleth saw an opportunity she couldn’t turn down. Her whole reason for being there was because she had an understanding of Srengi, right? She should use the time to develop her skills. Totally not a selfish excuse to get out of being caught in the crossfire.

Felix tried to protest, but someone had to ensure the two skilled warriors didn’t kill each other. To mediate between Sylvain and Hapi so the conflict was resolved. To suffer like they made Byleth suffer when they left her alone at the last big dance at Garreg Mach. Where all the parents came too, and she had to  _ talk _ to them, and couldn’t run off to hide and spar.  _ She _ had to speak to Lorenz, and his father, and  _ dance _ with  _ Seteth. _ All Felix had to do was stop two people killing each other. He could handle it.

Byleth’s dinner was very enjoyable. They ate the chicken and fish with their fingers, bringing back memories of meals around a campfire with her father's mercenaries. Megedagik and Achachak insisted on speaking in only Srengi, and Byleth found she knew a lot more than she thought. Her pronunciation wasn’t too bad either, but she struggled to speak the language. Keme mostly spoke in his native tongue, but rephrased in simpler words or translated to Fódlani when she didn’t understand.

Megedagik was named by his tribe’s elder at birth. Killed his first white bear aged 9, a male that came for him and his sister one hard winter. Byleth learnt lots about the local flora and fauna, too. How bears were mostly safe, just stay away from mothers with cubs. Blood red berries were safe to eat, but crimson ones were poison. The seals require immense patience to catch, and the best way to hunt them is like the white bear. Wait by a breathing hole for them to surface, and pounce. The bear with claws, the hunter with a spear.

Achachak told her more of the Srengi customs and traditions. A semi-nomadic lifestyle. The focus on nature, life, and unity - through tribal skirmishes - reminded her so much of Claude’s stories of Almyra. In turn, she explained as best she could about her friend’s homeland, excited to share with them the similarities. Then the three of them made a joke about southerners in the cold and even Byleth laughed at the thought of heat loving Khalid in the Faerghan cold, let alone further north.

Keme told the most wonderful stories. About life, about love, about strange creatures like gigantic seals that couldn’t leave the water called whales, one of which had a large horn they fought others with. He showed her a figurine of his spirit animal; he'd whittled it himself from one of the tusks. Byleth listened, each tale adding to the ache in her bones urging her to travel, to view these things for herself. Of course she made them teach her swears, and in turn she shared the best Fódlani ones. As they came to trust her, she managed to glean more useful information out of the delegates. Not deliberately, just a few things she picked up on that could help them break through the stalemate and get closer to drafting and signing a peace agreement. The Srengi had a surplus of furs, plus a monopoly on some of the best waterproof pelts like white bear and seal. Trade deals to move excess into Faerghus could be a popular move for all. From his evasiveness on certain topics, Byleth sensed there was something Megedagik was holding out for in the talks. After what Felix said, she was sure he wouldn’t agree to any deal that didn’t give him access to the oil.

Felix, apparently, had an awful dinner. Everyone sat in silence, it was very awkward, and Sylvain and Hapi left at the end in opposite directions. Byleth thought her days of wrangling  _ these _ children were over, but apparently not.

“You didn’t fix it,” Byleth accused.

“You’re the teacher, you fix it.”

She sighed. “Operation Winged Beast?”

“Operation Winged Beast,” Felix confirmed.

“Convene in?”

Felix’s scowl turned into a wicked smile. “Outside Didi’s guest room. Comfy chairs”

She snorted, but shook her head. “I’d let you do that to Didi, but not Marianne.”

Felix did the eye roll that meant he agreed but couldn’t admit it. “Their room?” She suggested.

He shook his head. “The escape corridors.”

Byleth groaned, dreading how sore she would be come morning. “Usual place, grab your own pillows?”

Felix nodded as he headed off to find Hapi, because “Byleth is looking for you, she’s in the ground floor parlour.”

Byleth turned towards the library, silently lamenting all the stairs. The useful maid from the night before was dusting off the armour. Normally she wouldn’t ask - Byleth hated having other people do things for her - but if Sylvain saw her with blankets and pillows, he’d suspect something. The maid scurried off to procure blankets and pillows for her, carely hidden in the entrance hall, whilst Byleth silently cursed every deity she was aware of for the sheer number of stairs in the tower to the library. Why couldn’t it be on a reasonable floor?

Halfway up, she got bored. Three quarters of the way, her thighs started to burn. By the time the door was in sight, her calves had practically seized up. Spiral stairs were hard. Making her walk up them meant Sylvain forfeited any rights to privacy, so Byleth just twisted the handle and let herself in when she got to the top.

“Please stop sulking in the library?” She demanded more than asked.

“I’m not sulking. This is a record of old land maps. Wanted to look at where the borders used to be.”

“Sure. But you always come up here after an argument. It’s too many stairs. I nearly died.”

“Thought you were meant to be fit, Byleth.”

She hissed at him, still catching her breath. “Next time, don’t sulk higher than the top floor. You’re carrying me back down. Now.”

He shot her a wary look.

“Felix wants you, but he was talking to Keme. The downstairs parlour. You need to host your guests. Start by entertaining me, and carrying me down.”

“Come on then, Byleth.” She prepared to jump up onto his back as he rushed forwards to sling her over a shoulder.

“Dastard.”

Sylvain chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve been called worse.”

Maybe the burn was better than the sick feeling of spinning round and round, slowly, whilst upside down. Next time she’d insist on a proper piggy back. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, he put her down and she nearly keeled over.

“Steady. You okay, Byleth?”

“Dizzy,” she managed, gripping tightly to one of his arms to keep herself upright. It took a lot of effort not to blab that it was a good thing they didn’t argue much, or he and Hapi would definitely work out their ploy. It was pretty predictable. They could stand to mix it up, for sure, but right now Byleth could barely stand full stop.

Sylvain supported her down to the parlour where Felix promptly pushed him in and barricaded the door. Byleth sat with her head between her legs, waiting for the world to stop moving. “Talk it out!” Somehow, despite feeling weak as anything, her voice was commanding. Felix found the blankets and pillows, laying the former on the floor to make it more comfortable. Later, they’d sleep under the blankets. For now, Byleth and Felix were on monster watch duty.

Only Hapi and Sylvain’s first fight and reconciliation had needed the monster fighting help, but better to be safe than sorry. Plus, from outside, Byleth could vaguely listen to make sure they put their argument to bed, then violently tune out when they  _ literally _ put their argument to bed. She looked down to see Felix’s hand out, palm up, for her to hold. She took it, and neither of them felt the need to fill the silence between them. At some point, Hapi and Sylvain started shouting, but that died off quite quickly.

“By?” Felix shook her awake. She’d fallen asleep with her face on her knees. Her neck was stiff and incredibly sore, her ass ached from the floor. How long had she been out?

“It’s gone midnight. Want to head to bed?”

“Can’t leave them,” she mumbled.

“I can handle a beast or two. Go rest.”

“Not leaving. Save the redheads. Not enough left. Need more.”

Felix chuckled quietly. Her sleep addled brain struggled to process the molten honey sound. It was the best thing she’d ever heard. She should tell him.

“Felix. Did, did you know. You. Are very pretty.” She poked him for emphasis.

He chucked again, the melodic sound lulling her to sleep. Felix shook her again. “No, Byleth. If you won’t go to bed, at least get under the covers here.”

She was barely conscious, drunk with tiredness and mumbling ridiculous nonsense about everything and nothing as Felix tucked her under a couple of blankets, lifting her head to rest it on a pillow.

“I love you, Felix.”

They both knew how the other felt, but rarely said it. Byleth missed the scowl that turned into a smile as he turned away from her. Byleth was asleep before she could hear Felix repeat the words back to her.

~~~

Byleth was still too bleary eyed to get the name of that maid, but the woman was Sothis sent. She woke them up in time for the talks carrying a teapot filled with coffee, much to Hapi and Byleth’s delight and Sylvain and Felix’s surprise. Sylvain complained about the bitter, muddy taste but drank it anyway. Byleth watched Felix’s face as he tried it. Initially he protested, but she shot Hapi a knowing look when he half arched an eyebrow, like he did whenever he was assessing something he liked.

She preferred it when that half eyebrow was directed at her, but there would be time for that later.

Sylvain walked into the room first, hand in hand with Hapi. Dark shadows from a late night lingered under his bright, smiling eyes. He beamed at her and they took their seats at the top of the table. Or tried to, because Sylvain pulled her into his lap with little regard for the present company. Their mere presence filled the room with more light than the many lit candles scattered about.

Byleth felt Felix's eye roll from behind her as she followed, grasping Sylvain on the shoulder like she did on the first night. He acknowledged it with a nod, but his chocolate eyes never left Hapi's ruby ones.

It would be sweet, if it didn't make her want to throw up. She was glad Operation Wild Beast was a success.

Byleth took her seat at the table and couldn't resist causing a little trouble. If Sylvain was allowed to be like this in front of the delegates, so was she. Normally, Byleth hated PDA as much as he did, but she couldn't turn up the chance to embarrass Felix. Byleth stuck an arm out to catch him as he walked past, pulling him into her lap. Felix let out a protesting squeak that he would vehemently deny later, and everyone at the table laughed. Felix tried to burn a hole into her shoulder with the angry embers of his eyes but the most beautiful shade of pink bloomed across his cheeks.

Concessions were made on both sides as they talked well into the day, but Byleth had no idea what the time was. Outside, the sky hadn’t changed at all, like the sun hadn’t risen. Thick, dark clouds covered the sky as far as the eye could see. A storm was brewing.

Byleth was getting tired of this now. Well, she was getting tired in general. More coffee, or her bed, was calling. Seteth gave her lessons on basic politicking when she ascended. She knew what she was doing. Byleth could end this now. In a natural lull in the discussions, she asked Megedagik outright. Bluntness was always one of her strong points.

_ You want the land, or the below? _

The Khagan looked at her confused, and Byleth wondered how badly she’d butchered the language. Was what she said even understandable?

Keme said something, repeating a few of the words she had used, translating what she said into something that made more sense?

_ What do you mean? _ Megedagik asked, his eyes intense.

_ The below. Under. _ Byleth pointed to the place on the map where Felix said the deposits were.  _ Water that makes fire burn brighter. Even wet wood. _

“Oil?” Megedagik leaned forward in his chair, clearly interested.

It was really called oil in Srengi? Why hadn’t she just tried that?

“Oil,” Byleth nodded. “We can agree to give you some oil. We would also buy excess pelts - seal, bear, beaver. And blubber, to treat it.”

Megedagik leant back casually in his chair to discuss in hushed voices with his companions. She flashed a look over to Sylvain, and his eyes were sparkling with their cunning brilliance. She’d given him the tools to do it, now he could take them up and shine.

And how he did shine, when given the chance.

Draft proposals were written up for review before the serving staff brought in lunch. Byleth contemplated keeping Felix trapped in her lap and feeding him, but she decided it wasn’t worth the vicious bites she’d get, and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it because they were with company. Easy conversation flowed with the fresh juice around the table until Achachak glanced up at the window.

_ Sign the papers. We need to leave, _ he murmured to the Khagan. The other two looked out, and their faces darkened to the same colour as the clouds outside.

“The clouds signal a bad snowstorm. Pass the papers, and I will sign. We must leave before we are stuck.” Megedagik reached out for the documents. Sylvain signed the two copies himself, and passed them over. The Khagan signed both and returned one to Sylvain, who handed it straight off to a messenger. If everyone left now, they would miss the weather.

“Are you leaving too, Chatterbox?”

Byleth looked at Felix expectantly, waiting for him to answer. “I don’t want to leave Baldarius in charge for longer than necessary. He’s an incompetent fool.”

“Is this because last time he was at the castle, he taught the chef how to make that sweet bread? Brioche?” She teased him.

“It was disgusting.”

“It was great!” Byleth, Hapi and Sylvain piped up in unison.

“Ugh,” Felix scoffed as he made to stride out of the room. Byleth laughed at him as she followed, rushing to catch up with his purposeful gait.


	3. Chapter 3

Margrave and Margravine Gautier said the official Kingdom goodbye to the Srengi trio, overseeing their departure as three steeds and their riders walked out of view. Hugs (in Felix's case, begrudgingly given) and words were exchanged as Byleth and Felix also said goodbye to their friends, shooing them back into the warm castle. They didn't need the proper send off.

Felix snickered at her when Byleth stood on a box to get Amaymon’s tack on and attach the saddlebags. Byleth wasn’t about to let him get away with laughing at her, not over something like height when he was sensitive about it too. She kicked out at him. He spun to the side, easily dodging her attack, as expected. A playfulness lit his amber eyes that filled Byleth with equal parts excitement and dread. Dropping his saddlebags to the floor, Felix grabbed her ankle and pulled her off balance. Byleth stumbled forwards, falling off the block and into his arms.

Felix rose to his full height over her and leaned in until his lips were level with her ear. The feel of his hot breath ghosting against the cold skin of her exposed neck made Byleth’s breath catch.

“Hello, Byleth,” he growled. Byleth’s pulse raced, her breathing became more erratic to match. The deep, low tone was deliberate. He knew  _ exactly _ what it did to her. Bastard. She pulled her leg back and he released her to grip her chin tightly instead, holding her in place. It prevented her from closing the distance when he leant in most, but not all, of the way to brush their lips together. The most fun part of the games they played was breaking the rules.

She couldn’t move her chin. Fine. Byleth had surprised Felix many times before when he thought he’d rendered her immobile. Instead, she relished his look of surprise as her tongue darted out to tease at Felix’s bottom lip. Control temporarily forgotten, Felix crushed their bodies together for a bruising kiss that made her head spin. As much as she enjoyed him pinning her to a wall, there was no wall behind her - just a horse that historically wasn’t Felix’s biggest fan. Amy thought she could do better, and told Felix as much whenever he got the chance. Byleth leaned back into Felix’s weight, sliding her hands to his hips to urge him backwards into an empty stall instead.

Felix obliged. His step back didn’t break the kiss, but created enough space between them for Byleth to shove him a decent distance towards the wall at the back. He’d need the support for what she had in mind. Byleth had perfected the art of stripping them both bare. If he was inclined to offer it, Byleth could grind into Felix’s thigh for teasing friction as she worked the unnecessary amount of buckles on his coat. She had a love / hate relationship with those buckles. Anticipation always built within her at each loosened strap. Part of her always wanted to wait to properly unwrap him, savour every moment. The buckles definitely facilitated that. Problems arose in those times when she was desperate to have him, though. He pouted the time she just cut them off. So now, Byleth was probably faster and more skilled than Fódlan’s best pickpocket at divesting a noble of their belt. After he was free of his coat, it was her armoured breastplate and shorts if she was wearing them, otherwise it was Felix’s top, until his delectable chest was exposed to the air. Then came her tights, which she did herself these days - Felix often got too impatient and ripped them. They were  _ expensive. _ Byleth didn’t want to be solely responsible for Anna’s pension pot. And finally, Byleth would have to fumble with the laces on his breeches whilst he did his damnedest to distract her.

It was too cold in the stables for any of that. They both knew it, and neither made a start on disrobing. Plus, they didn’t have time for anything long and drawn out. The delegates were worried about staying ahead of the storm, so Byleth and Felix had to leave quickly.

_ After _ they fucked, of course.

Felix Fraldarius was selfish in bed. When they tangled in the sheets, more often than not it was all about what he wanted. Granted, what he wanted was to please her. But it meant he’d often ignore his own pleasure in certain situations. There were the times he finished himself quickly and efficiently, rather than let her coax his release out of him. The times where he buried his face between her thighs for hours, until she was barely coherent and drunk from the post orgasm high, then fucked her before she had the chance to return the favour. There had been five of  _ those  _ times. She was counting. Byleth accepted that, anatomically, she was always going to end up being brought to completion more often than him. However, she refused to accept that there were times he hadn’t allowed her to return the favour in the same manner.

Today, she was going to even up the score a bit.

Warm leather felt rough against her skin as one of his hands pushed her top up so he could slip a hand under the band of her riding breeches. How many pairs of leather gloves had they ruined this way? The sensation drew Byleth back out of her thoughts and into the moment. A plan formed in her head. She relaxed into Felix, and the added weight of her against his chest caused him to brace himself against the wall. His other arm encircled her waist to support her. 

Felix stroked her efficiently. In the years they had spent together, she knew Felix had perfected the mental map of Byleth in his head. The path of every scar, along with the memory of how it got there, including the relatively new line in her eyebrow from when they tried something a little adventurous in the waterfall at Fraldarius, he slipped on some algae, and his teeth connected with her forehead. Every place to kiss, to get a perfect moan from her - the best spot was on her iliac crest, but for maximum impact, he ghosted his lips over it. The light sensation drove her wild, it was so infuriatingly hot. Every place to bite to draw the groans that, from his responses, stir something animalistic in him. The exact way to play with her chest to make her come from that alone, which he often used (unfairly) to encourage her to bed when she worked too hard. Every place to lick, and to suck, and to stroke, and to touch. How ghosting his breath over her ear before worrying the lobe in his teeth could get her just as ready for him as playing with her. But allegedly she made better noises when he traced slow, firm circles on her clit. It always got an audible reaction from her, even when she was trying her best to be quiet.

She could tell Felix didn’t care about her being loud today, even as she noticed the hitch in his breath in response to her gasps. Byleth knew those gasps drove him insane with want. She could tell from the urgency of his desperate, passionate kisses that thoughts of making them both feel good consumed him as he consumed her.  _ Fuck,  _ she could hear how wet she was already. Felix responded to the obscene sounds, chuckling seductively as the stirring in his breeches began to push into her stomach. Clearly unable to wait any longer, he brought both hands to undo her fastenings. When she was unsupported, Byleth slid down his body. Her knees made an audible thud as they connected with the stone floor, barely covered with a thin layer of hay to cushion her fall.

_ Was she okay? Did he break her? _ The questions flitted across his face as Felix stared down at her, concerned, until he noticed the mischievous smile on her face, coupled with the wicked look in her eye. Byleth’s hands made quick work of the laces on his breeches as he attempted to pull her up; he wasn’t going to let her win this battle for dominance. Good. Her practise at removing their clothing paid off, though. She swiftly released him to swallow his still hardening erection.

_ “Minx,” _ Felix breathed as his head flopped back against the stone wall propping him up. Byleth felt the vibrations of her chuckle around his cock resonate up his spine in a shiver. His fingers tangled in her luscious green bangs as she bobbed her head slowly, gently sucking him to full hardness. Feeling him grow in her mouth always filled her with pride; she enjoyed the proof of her skills. Felix could still pull her off, pull her up and push her against the wall, or bend her over a hay bale, but she sensed his need for control evaporate when the tip of her tongue ran over the tight skin of his frenulum.

Byleth firmly gripped Felix’s length as it became too much to fit in her mouth. It would take her time to work up to taking it all. Time wasn’t a luxury they had, with the brewing storm. Still, Byleth took a moment to breathe in deeply through her nose, savouring his headly smell and the salty tang of his precum already leaking on her tongue. She could lap it up for days; he kept producing more as she slowly pumped her hand. The usual gasp he let out when she twisted near the top riled her up even more. Byleth  _ really _ enjoyed making Felix feel this good on the few occasions he permitted her to.

She was determined to remind him of exactly why he should. Byleth’s lips chased her moving hand, taking him deeper. His head brushed against her palate, the increased sensation making them both moan in unison. When there was no more space beyond her hand, Byleth licked up the underside of his length, releasing him with a loud pop. Her hand continued to work him, but she needed to rest her jaw and admire her handiwork. She sat back on her heels to gaze up at him, hooking a canine around the plush muscle of her bottom lip to complete the sultry look. Disappointingly, his head was still tipped back against the wall, so she couldn’t see the blank, open mouthed face of pleasure that urged her on. Instead, he taunted her with the pale expanse of his exposed neck, so perfect for sucking on, when she was stuck all the way down here on her knees.

Byleth knew exactly how to get him looking down at her. She wrapped her warm, wet mouth around his head, tracing the ridge with her tongue to make his hands fist in her hair. Byleth looked up again, the honeyed eyes she was hoping to make contact with staring down at her. Part clouded with lust, his pupils blown so wide she could barely see the intense amber irises; part determination to stop him thrusting his hips into her, which she greatly appreciated; and part pure adoration that disappeared when he noticed her looking. His front teeth were pressed into his lip as he bit down on the noises she was trying to draw out of him. Byleth would rather he was noisy - the sounds he made added to her arousal, bringing her closer to the edge she could sometimes reach with her nose buried in the thick, curly hairs at the base of his stomach.

She held his eyes as she took every bit of his length in her mouth. He tensed beneath her, trying to still the instinctive jerk in his hips. Oh. Byleth had been neglecting him. She drew infinity symbols on his shaft, letting the hand that once held his member gently fondle a little lower. The response was instant, a loud groan he couldn’t suppress giving way to panting as Byleth started to combine techniques whilst running her knuckles along the seam of skin on his balls.

_ “By,” _ Felix choked out, quiet enough to be drowned out by her own moans and the sloppy sounds of her lips on his slicked length. But  _ that _ hitch in his voice, the gentle tug at her hair, the way his eyebrows are pulled together - she could tell all the signs that he was close.

Her free hand came to join as she sped up, building him up until he tapped on her shoulder. At the signal, Byleth gave him a final lick before letting one hand replace her mouth. Gripping tightly around the tip to catch his spend as she milked him, Byleth watched Felix’s face as it contorted and he yielded to the pleasure.

She smirked up at his flushed face, admiring her handiwork - one satisfied Felix Hugo Fraldarius, panting heavily.  _ “Minx,” _ he breathed, heavily lidded eyes opening to drink in the sight of her looking so smug on her knees. “You’ll pay for that when we get home,” Felix attempted to scowl, the afterglow haze in his eyes taking all the heat out of it. Byleth grabbed a handful of hay to wipe his spent off on. He offered her a hand up, ever the gentleman, even if he pretended not to be. She took it gladly, her knees stiff and a little sore from the cold floor. Was it colder than when they started?

“I’m counting on it,” Byleth said, redoing Felix’s laces as she leant up to peck his lips.

He shook his head at her and muttered something that sounded like “You’ll be the death of me,” as he staggered out of the stall and stopped dead in his tracks.

“The storm?” Byleth asked. Had they really been at it that long?

“Yes,” Felix replied through gritted teeth. Oof. That did  _ not  _ sound good.

"How bad? Just 'we shouldn't camp in the wilderness' bad, or something else?"

"Something else."

"We're snowed in, aren't we?" Byleth groaned through her hands, already hiding her face. This was so embarrassing.

"Yes," Felix hissed.

_ Seiros. _

He turned to face her. “Sylvain's insufferable enough. Do we have to go back in there?" The earnest look on his face made it clear Felix was being serious.

_ Fuck. _ She hadn't even thought about having to tell the redheads, or the taunting it would earn them. "We're never going to live this down."

"That sounds like we have to go back in, By. Why can't we just hide in the stables until the weather clears?"

Byleth hesitated, seriously considering it for a moment. "Is freezing to death really worth it?"

Felix didn't hesitate for a second. "Yes."

"Okay," Byleth accepted with a shrug.

"What are you doing!?"

If she was going to freeze to death, Byleth intended to do it quickly. Plus, this was the best way to call his bluff. Her cloak and overcoat were already on the floor; she was in the process of removing her top when he asked.

“What does it look like, Felix? I’m speeding up the process.”

“Put your clothes back on,” he grumbled, begrudgingly dragging his feet towards the door that led from the stables to the castle proper.

Byleth chuckled. Once her top was back in place, she grabbed the outer layers off the floor and slung them over her arm. No use putting them back on when she’d be back inside momentarily. Even though Felix was holding the door for her, letting in all of the icy chill, Byleth couldn’t resist a glance back to see how badly snowed in they were, a small glimmer of hope that they could risk leaving still alive within her until she saw the extent of the snowstorm that still raged on. The drifts were easily at knee height already. No chance they could leave to avoid the mocking fate that awaited them.

Of course, she could think of worse things than being snowed in with their friends. And surely in the time it took the snow to clear, they could come up with some dirt of their own? Byleth and Felix had proven themselves to be quite resourceful, after all.

~~~

It was impossible to tell the time from the position of the sun due to the storm causing a complete white out, but Byleth knew it had to be getting towards dinner time. She walked purposefully beside Felix, both holding their chins high to avoid the judgemental glances from staff during their walk of shame through Gautier’s halls. If they cut through the ground floor parlour at a jog (ensuring they didn’t touch anything and got out as quickly as possible, they knew what Hapi and Sylvain were like) they could get to the kitchen quicker, request early food to take with them and hide in their quarters to plan their excuses. For this to work, she needed Felix’s face to stop betraying them.

“Be less red, Felix,” Byleth muttered, audible only to him.

“Sorry we aren’t all possessed by a Goddess that makes us unfeeling,” he snapped back, voice hushed.

She scoffed, pushing against the parlour doors. “You certainly know how to act as if you were.”

Byleth’s mouth fell open as the double doors swung in, the creak of old hinges covering the noises she had not yet noticed. The parlour was a cozy room, designed to receive guests in. Wallpaper of the royal Faerghan blue adorned the walls. On closer inspection, paler blue detailing in swirling patterns was visible. Coloured walls were a rare sight in the castle that valued the simplicity of stone throughout; the only other room with wallpaper was the dining room. In a far corner sat the furniture responsible for the strong scent of cedar wood that filled the space. A cabinet, glass fronted at the top to show off the fine crystalware, with a protruding shelf to cover the larger bottom cupboard. Carafes filled with different liquids were positioned ready for company - one a reddish brown; another the deep garnet of a full bodied red wine; the final a clear liquid valued for how it did not freeze in the colder climes.

A small bookcase sat adjacent to the simple fireplace in the leftmost wall, laden with a large variety of books. Fiction was interspersed with non-fiction throughout, tomes meticulously organised according to a system Byleth couldn’t divine. She was sure she did  _ not _ want to know what  _ A Maiden Most Fair _ was about, knowing Sylvain.  _ Crest Influence on Magical Energies _ was an unusual title to be in their collection. Neither Sylvain nor Hapi held much interest in crests. The book stood in stark contrast to their values, unless they were looking for a way to break Hapi’s so-called curse? A well worn leather seat was positioned within arm’s reach of the case. Three settees were arranged in a loose horseshoe in the middle of the room, facing toward each other to facilitate discussion. Set apart from the other seating was a chaise longue, and the reason Byleth was attempting to catch flies.

In all, the room was utilised far too much, and far too nice, to be sullied like this. Byleth made a note to come up with a different place to execute Operation Winged Beast in future. Sylvain knelt on the chaise lounge, a glimpse of Hapi’s golden skin betraying her position in front of him - thankfully, she was mostly covered by the raised back. Oh Goddess, they’d walked in on Sylvain fully hilted in Hapi. His flush of exertion did not reach quite as far down his chest as Felix’s did, Byleth noted involuntarily. Plus, he wasn’t unpleasant to look at, she begrudgingly admitted to herself, even if her personal preferences tended towards slim rather than broad.  _ Fuck. _ She hoped her thoughts weren’t visible on her face. Reverence shone from Sylvain’s eyes as he stared down at Hapi, hands on her broad hips for purchase. She’d never seen him look so in love. Quiet, panting noises coupled with quieter moans fell from them both. Oh, so  _ now _ he can be quiet, Byleth thought testily. Figures.

Sylvain’s head snapped up at the sound of the doors. Hapi’s arm slung around the back of the sofa to prop herself up as her face appeared, her more exotic tones covering the worst of the heat in it. Four stunned faces, mimicking deer the second they spotted a hunter before they inevitably bolted, stared at each other with a mix of mortification (Byleth and Felix), shock (everyone), annoyance (Hapi) and a little smugness (Sylvain). None of them moved, rooted in place.

Felix recovered first, pulling Byleth with him as he spun around to give their friends privacy. Years of friendship had desensitised him to seeing Sylvain in all his “glory” (Felix begged to differ on that point). The baths at Garreg Mach were shared, after all. There were also the countless times he’d had to tell his friend to shut up so he could sleep and Sylvain had opened the door stark naked without a care in the world. Or the time Yuri and Claude  _ somehow _ convinced Sylvain, Ashe, Balthus and Dimitri to join them in a midnight run around the grounds, naked. Much to Dorothea and Hilda’s delight. Felix laughed at how the shade of Byleth’s face matched Hapi’s hair. “Be less red, By,” he mocked her.

“Fuck  _ off, _ Felix. I enjoyed being one of the few people who hasn’t seen Sylvain naked.”

“Hey!” Twin voices called out in unison. “What’s wrong with my husband?”

“We have to have shame for them, don’t we?” Felix groaned.

“Looks likely. Hapi, you said what was wrong with it. He’s  _ your _ husband.  _ I _ don’t need to see any of that.”

“There’s enough of me to go arou-Ow!” The telltale sound of slapped flesh rang through the room. “I was joking,” Sylvain laughed from behind them. Byleth could hear the shift of weight on the sofa.

Out of the corner of her eye, Byleth saw Felix turn around, a hand on his hip to draw the throwing dagger concealed there. It made a tearing noise as it sliced into the fabric of the furniture.

“I need him intact, Fraldarius. At least for another ten minutes.  _ After _ that, you can emasculate him.” Hapi sounded genuine, too.

“No,” Byleth said sternly, ever the voice of reason.

Felix turned back to her. “But Hapi said it was okay?”

Sometimes, Byleth wondered how she made it through her year as their teacher. “You want to explain it to Didi?” She sounded exasperated.

“Point taken.”

Byleth was saved by the attentive maid who approached the room with a neutral but resigned face, entirely unbothered by Sylvain and Hapi’s state of undress. She’d clearly seen far too much of the Margrave and Margravine before. Usually, Byleth hated small talk, but it was a welcome way to add some normalcy back to this bizarre day.

“Thank you for your help during our stay. I didn’t get your name?” Byleth asked.

“It’s Seraphina, Your Grace.”

She wasn’t the Duchess, so technically not Your Grace, but Byleth didn’t think this was an appropriate time to discuss the semantics. “Thanks, Seraphina. Dinner at the usual time?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Are they always like this?” Felix’s voice slipped into a disapproving growl.

“Please forgive me for speaking out of place but yes, Your Grace.”

A pained look crossed Byleth’s face. “I’m so sorry you have to see this.”

“Me too, Your Grace. I’ve prepared you tea in the dining room to entertain yourselves until such a time when the House is decent and able to entertain you themselves. Please follow me.”

Seraphina turned on her heel, sauntering off through another door. Felix and Byleth followed her readily.

“Fe! The door! Shut the door! Ugh, fine, I’ll get it,” Sylvain grumbled.

  
  
  


At dinner that night, the quartet navigated the incredibly awkward atmosphere with ease. Hapi and Sylvain agreed not to ask why their friends hadn’t made it home. In turn, Byleth and Felix promised never to talk about what they saw in the parlour. They ate their fill of meats, drank their weight in wine in a misguided attempt to forget the afternoon’s events, and fell into their familiar routines. Felix insulted Sylvain, Hapi joined in, Byleth defended him, and the man himself laughed. At one point, Seraphina returned to serve a cheese plate, and Byleth was reminded of something she intended to say earlier.

“You,” Byleth tipped her goblet at Sylvain, “don’t pay your staff enough.”

“What makes you say that!?” He replied, genuine confusion on his face.

“If I ever saw you naked at the academy, I would have demanded that Seteth give me hazard pay,” Byleth stated. Sylvain threw his hands up defensively as Hapi and Felix snorted. Seraphina’s hand flew up to cover the smile blooming on her face.

“Seriously, how often do you have to deal with this, Seraphina?” Byleth pushed.

“Your Grace, from how often they’re at it, I’m surprised we can’t hear the pitter patter of tiny feet everywhere. Rabbits come to mind.”

Felix attempted to remain straight faced, but Byleth descended into hysterics and dragged him down with her.

“She’s great,” Byleth said to Hapi. “Now I want to know what Fraldarius staff say about us.”

“You’re predictable, Your Graces, which goes a long way. Everyone knows to avoid the training grounds and any corridors between them and your rooms when you reunite, until you show at the kitchens for dinner. Your staff are content, you’re good to them. Helps that you’re both so fiercely independent.”

Byleth smiled, pleased, until it turned cheeky. “If you ever want to leave, Seraphina, I’ll treat you right.”

“Bold of you, Your Grace,” Seraphina retorted with a grin to match Byleth’s. “Duke’s right there. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

Sylvain and Hapi dismissed her (for her safety) with the customary wave before Felix recovered. Banter flew effortlessly around the table until the couples rose, a little unsteady, to retire for the night. Byleth and Felix went first, still tired from Operation Winged Beast, but the excess alcohol made Sylvain much louder and the couple slower than anticipated. He leaned across the table to steal a kiss from his wife, whispering in a shout “they definitely got stuck because they fucked in the stables.”

Byleth gripped Felix’s wrist as his hands flew into fists. His eyes flicked down to the contact, and he nodded. It wasn’t worth the trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

The snow drifts were a solid two feet deeper when they woke up the next morning, and the storm still raged on outside with no signs of abating. The view from their balcony was completely obscured by the heavy snowfall; the biting winds causing the window panes to rattle. It was clear they would be stuck at Gauter for the time being. So long as Hapi and Sylvain could behave in public spaces, there were much worse places to be held captive by the weather.

Byleth dressed quickly, the frigid air rapidly cooling her skin. She could cope with the usual Faerghan climate rather well now - a fact that brought both her and Felix more pride in than they should have - but this blizzard was something else. Felix laughed at her when she wrapped herself back up in the furs on the bed, fully clothed, to feel like a normal temperature again.

“Can’t handle a bit of cold?” Felix taunted.

“I can handle a  _ bit _ of cold. This is colder than Jeralt was when he met Sylvain.”

“What did he do?”

“Ah, Sylvain was just being his younger self,” Byleth yawned, stretching as best she could under all the layers.

Two sharp raps on the door drew their attention.

“Go on then, Byleth. Prove you can brave the  _ icy temperatures _ of the room.”

Byleth huffed, wiggling to detangle herself from the messy nest she’d made for herself. Finally free, she darted to the door as quickly as possible while the chilled stone floor leeched more heat from her feet, covered only in socks.

Hapi stood behind it, arms folded and looking unimpressed as ever.

“He’s making me  _ study, _ Chatterbox. I have to learn about running a territory now. Why did you make me  _ emote?” _

“Hm?” Byleth was confused.

“We talked, with words, and now I have to learn why stupid nobles have 12 pieces of cutlery for formal meals. This afternoon we’re covering the feudal system - fiefdoms and tenanted farmers and vassals and blah blah blah. I swear half of it is made up,” Hapi complained loudly.

“Welcome to the best kept secret of the nobility,” Felix replied. “Look the part, fake acting the part and make the rest up.”

The rich sound of Byleth and Hapi laughing filled the room, and one of Felix’s rare smiles graced his features.

“Good thing you’re not the Duchess then, Chatterbox.”

And the smile was gone, replaced by a pensive frown. Byleth tried not to dwell on it. She was losing feeling in her feet and wanted to get them booted as soon as possible.

“Was there anything else, Hapi?”

“Apparently as Lady of the House I have to officially give you free rein of the house. So there. My castle is your castle. Make yourself at home, keep yourselves occupied because we’ll be busy. See you at meals, if we don’t kill each other first.”

“Got it,” Felix acknowledged.

Hapi started down the corridor, then turned back to their room.

  
“One more thing. If you hear the screeching of a wild beast, you just turn the other way. No killing my chance at sweet release from this torture.”

“I’m sorry,” Byleth said with a sympathetic look on her face. “You forgot to curtsey,” she called after her departing friend. Hapi shouted in frustration, heading off to wherever Sylvain had them holed up for lessons.

Felix’s warm body pressed into her back as he wrapped his arms around her. He still smelt of the smokey fire he’d built in their room the night before. Funny now, how fires made her feel at home. HIs voice was deep and low when he whispered in her ear, “I can think of a few things we can do to keep ourselves occupied.”

“Me too.” She squirmed around to face him, pushing her chin up. Felix could read her like a book, and he closed the distance between them to give her the kiss she’d been asking for. “Help me with my shoes?” Byleth pressed the words into his lips.

He nodded, throwing her on the bed to make it easier to don and lace up her boots.

They had training to do, after all.

~~~

Hapi’s words were true in more ways than one. Gautier was a second home to Byleth and Felix now, as familiar to them both as Garreg Mach and Fraldarius, respectively. Byleth’s time in Fraldarius Keep had been much briefer than either of them would have liked. Seteth was so rarely able to spare her. Byleth would never admit it to Felix, but she still needed the serving staff to help her navigate around their home. Truthfully, she knew Gautier Castle better. She needed to change that.

Byleth had one single complaint about their chambers at Gautier, and it was the distance from them to the training grounds. Their rooms were located on the opposite side of the castle, two floors up from their destination. Hapi had changed as much of the interior as the housekeeper had permitted her to. The grisly old woman remembered when Sylvain’s father was born, and insisted some of the pieces they all hated the most had to stay. All the portraits of former Margraves and their families, immortalised on canvas as if frozen in ice, their gazes just as warm as they disapproved from their positions on the wall. Placed high enough to look down on all who walked through the halls. At least the god awful silver, strategically scattered around the castle as an ostentatious reminder of the family’s wealth, was now safely hidden away in a cupboard Hapi kept trying to lose the key to. Gaudy bone china vases placed on ornately carved tables were gone now, replaced by simple glass things full of red camellias in the windowsills.

Although Hapi managed to make the castle more and more their own each time she visited, Byleth knew her style, and the traditional style. She knew the majority of changes ahead of time anyway, from frequently exchanged letters. Therefore, the barrel in the middle of the corridor stood out like a sore thumb to her. Next to her, Felix cocked his head. He stalked towards the barrel, curious, peering over the rim once he was close enough. Felix’s features lit up, eyes opening wide as he stared intensely at the contents of the barrel. His jaw set in a determined look, and Byleth barely had time to grab the wooden training sword he threw at her before Felix charged.

Byleth deftly sidestepped his attack. She twirled to face him, using her momentum to add power to her swing. Her blade arced towards Felix’s stomach; he sucked it in to avoid the hit. Excitement raced through Byleth at the calculating look in his eyes, sizing her up as an enemy. For a second, they both stood perfectly still, poised to strike. Watching. Waiting. Daring the other to make the next move. The corridor didn’t have as much space as they were used to. No circling each other and darting in. A flash of green behind Felix’s shoulder gave Byleth an idea. Her eyes quickly flicked up to take in the whole scene. Plan her win. As soon as their eye contact broke, Felix was on her. Both hands gripping the hilt, he brought his sword down on her three times. Byleth blocked each blow easily, but the power behind it forced her to step back. Each one sent a jolt through her shoulders. Her arm muscles ached already.

Felix raised his arms for another attack and Byleth sprang forwards. Her shoulder connected with his chest with a heavy thud as their bodies collided. Byleth’s free hand flew to his sword wrist. She dug her thumb in. Twisted, hard, until she heard the satisfying noise of wood hitting the stone floor. Disarming Felix was never a sure sign of defeat though; she couldn’t let down her guard. He backed off, yanking his arm out of her grip. Byleth missed the warmth of his body pressed against hers when he moved away.

Felix settled into a crouch, fists raised in front. Byleth frowned. His weight was positioned wrong, and she punished him for it with a sideswipe that knocked him off balance. She pushed him for good measure. Felix staggered further backwards, eyes darting around for a substitute weapon. He spotted a ceremonial rapier mounted to the wall and Byleth noted the flash of surprise on his face. Another of Hapi’s changes? It didn’t matter. Felix had turned to run for it. Time to end this. Her quick steps rang out, not fast enough to catch him but that wasn’t her goal. Byleth saw the fierceness of his eyes as he raced towards the sword and into her trap. She threw herself forwards on her knees, grasping for the plush feel of the woollen runner as she pulled it out from under Felix, sending him crashing to the floor. Already on her feet, two steps closed the scant distance between them. Byleth was straddled on his chest, pinning him to the floor before he could squirm free. She casually pointed her sword at his throat.

“Yield.”

“Come down here and say that to my face,” Felix spat, grouchy at being defeated. It was so endearing, but she knew better. He fell for her trick; she wouldn’t fall for his.

“So you can pin me? No.” Byleth shook her head, laughing. “Yield.”

Byleth felt the rise of Felix’s chest under her as he huffed. “Rematch,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yield first.” Byleth prodded him in the chest to reinforce her point.

“Why do I need to say it?” He huffed.

_ Because if you don’t, this isn’t over, _ Byleth thought. Instead, she shrugged and said “Okay,” fully prepared for what would happen next. Sure enough, Felix rolled, taking Byleth with him. Predictably, she was now underneath him. Byleth let him settle long enough for a self assured smirk to creep onto his face. “Yield.”

Byleth’s hand tangled in his midnight hair, pulling Felix in for what he thought was a kiss. Just before their lips pressed together, when his guard was down, Byleth bucked him and flipped them both, so she was back on top. “I beat you twice now, Fraldarius. Yield.”

“Fine, I yield.”

“Good man,” Byleth said, grinning widely as she briefly tasted his lips. “I think I remember seeing another of those in the ballroom. Want to see how many more are scattered around the castle?”

“We’re sparring at each one,” Felix asked.

Byleth made a noise that meant  _ obviously. _ “Want to make this interesting?”

Felix raised an eyebrow. He was intrigued. Good. “Winner gets edging rights tonight,” Byleth suggested, a wicked gleam in her bright green eyes.

“Done,” Felix agreed instantly, his competitive nature kicking in. They wore matching predatory grins as they stalked off through the corridors to find more of the interior decorating Hapi had clearly done just for them.

~~~

Byleth and Felix found thirteen barrels of training swords and a broken crystal candelabra that had  _ always _ been there scattered around the castle. Even though they  _ definitely _ didn’t break the heirloom, both agreed that it looked better smashed on the floor anyway. Good riddance to the old Gautier dastards. An odd number of barrels was perfect for resolving their bet, but unnecessary. Felix had put up a valiant fight, to be sure, but running around after children all day made Byleth quicker. She  _ may _ also have neglected to tell him about passing her assassin certification since they last saw each other. In all, he won five of their spars. Bruises were already blooming under his porcelain skin from smacks with the side of a sword; Byleth’s lip was split from where he’d headbutted her to gain the advantage he needed to steal a win. Both were limping slightly, deliciously sore from a good workout. Single focused as they were, the couple missed lunch, and were ravenous by dinnertime.

Hapi and Sylvain did not join them for the meal. Byleth and Felix ate in silence, plates cleared in record time. 

Felix suggested they use the hot springs beneath the castle, much to Byleth’s surprise because a) he’d never been a fan of the sauna at Garreg Mach, and b) since when did Gautier have hot springs? Since forever, apparently. It was part of how the castle was kept so warm.  _ Warm, _ Byleth scoffed. She’d seen icicles forming on their floor. However, she had to admit, the ground floor did always seem unusually temperate.

They grabbed towels from a linen closet Seraphina directed them to, and descended a dimly lit staircase into the underbelly of Gautier Castle after leaving their outer layers by the door. The stairs were huen directly into the bedrock the castle rested on, still perfectly even. Either magic kept them preserved, or few ventured down to the springs. Hot, moist air hit Byleth as she sloped further down the stairs, aches causing her to slouch. Rolling her neck made a nasty crack that she and Felix both winced at. The heat intensified with every step she took, a mixture of exertion and the atmosphere in the narrow space causing sweat to stream down Byleth’s face. Felix was in a worse condition than her, his face already flush. Thankfully, Byleth could see a light not too far in the distance. Splashing and hushed, playful voices echoed through the stairwell.

Keen to prevent a repeat of the previous night, Felix called out before the cavernous room was visible. The space looked natural, rather than carved by hand or magic. A blissful breeze stirred any hairs not plastered to Byleth’s face by sweat. Yet, she could not see the source of the breeze, or of the light in the room. Hidden underneath the heavy air and pungent smell of sulphur, the faintest wisps of extinguished candles and an earthy musk lingered in the room. Magic was the source, then. A large pool, uneven in shape, emerged from the rock. Cloudy blue waters filled the spring, further evidence of the minerals that gave the room its strong stench. Funny though, she could barely sense it any more.

Hapi and Sylvain were sat with their backs to the couple, the bare flesh of their shoulders visible, anything under the water concealed by the opaque liquid they were relaxing in. Sylvain glanced back over his shoulders at his friends.

“Just treating Hapi like you used to treat us to a sauna session after a good day’s work, Professor,” Sylvain said with a lewd wink. His wife rolled her eyes, reaching up to grab his ear and pull his face forwards.

“I’ll keep him busy while you strip,” Hapi reassured them.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Byleth quipped back, but Felix was already naked beside her. He smirked when he caught her staring, before walking over to Sylvain. Rather than getting into the pool, however, he knelt behind his best friend to cover the redhead’s eyes. Hapi had the same idea and added her hands to help.

“It’s safe for you to get in, By.”

“Oi!” Sylvain exclaimed. “I would’ve shut my eyes if you asked.”

“Hmph. As much as I trust you to know why you shouldn’t look at Byleth, I also know your Guardian Moon resolution from our time at the Officer’s Academy was to see the professor naked. You're probably still trying to tick it off." Felix wasn’t going to take any chances either way. It would be sad if he had to disembowel Sylvain over this, considering how many other times he’d successfully resisted the urge in the past.

“I would  _ never,”  _ Sylvain pouted, his tone of voice making it very clear he definitely was still working on the list. Hapi bit his neck in protest. “Down, girl,” Sylvain purred. Hapi buried her face in his neck with an embarrassed groan. The three heard the soft swish of fabric being removed and hitting the floor, before Byleth slipped into the pool.

When she was decent, Felix and Hapi released Sylvain’s eyes. Splashing noises, accompanied by ripples in the water that fortunately did not make either of the women indecent, rang through the cave as Felix threw himself into the hot water and relaxed into the relief it brought to his worn muscles. Byleth also let out a contented sigh, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the moment. Sylvain and Hapi murmured quietly to each other, and occasionally she could hear the drips of water as hands cupped faces when they kissed, but Byleth enjoyed the sounds of her friends happy in the otherwise easy quiet.

Hands rested on her shoulders and Byleth’s eyes flew open. Her head whipped to see who it was, but on seeing it was only Felix she relented and closed her eyes again. He kneaded the knots and tension out of her shoulders and arms, paying particular attention to her neck after the nasty noise they’d heard earlier. Once he was done, Byleth returned the favour, tsking at the mottled bruises on his skin like she hadn’t been the one to put them there.

“Have you even been training?” She taunted him, poking a particularly dark mark close to his wrist that looked suspiciously like one of her finger tips. Felix only responded by glaring back at her, much to everyone’s amusement. Felix’s inability to keep his hands off her bare flesh worked in Byleth’s favour; he twisted his torso to cup her face, leaning in. Barely a hair's width separated their lips. Felix’s palms brushed over her skin, moving down her neck, across the slope of her shoulders and  _ shoved _ until she was fully immersed under the water.

_ “Dastard,” _ Byleth hissed, spitting hair out of her mouth. She wiped the water away from her eyes and gave him a particularly vicious elbow to the ribs.

Felix just smiled at her and diverted attention away from him by asking about something Seraphina had mentioned. “So, when  _ do _ I get nieces and nephews to train in swords then?” Byleth's lips curled upwards at how the other couple fidgeted at the question.

Sylvain answered. “Felix, I know you can only do one thing, but I’d want more for my future kids. They’re going to learn magic, horses and lances; not swords. Besides, there won’t  _ be _ any future children until Hapi can be sure she won’t need to fit in a nice dress at short notice. So, when will she need that dress, huh?”

Byleth and Felix stared at him blankly. Sylvain rolled his eyes at them, the exaggerated gesture clearly mocking their preferred method of communicating annoyance. “You’re so dense. I’m asking you when the wedding is.”

Fortunately, it was impossible to distinguish if the blush in Byleth's and Felix’s cheeks was due to Sylvain’s question or the heat. Hapi cocked her head curiously, noticing how the couple deliberately looked in opposite directions to avoid meeting the other’s gaze. They hadn't talked about it properly. Sparring or fucking or some emergency had always come up instead.

Felix’s voice was gruff. “Give me children to train in the way of the sword.” Avoidance was a tried and tested method for Felix when it came to topics he didn’t want to talk about. If only Sylvain would listen to what he wasn’t saying, like Byleth did, and leave him be.

No such luck today. “Okay, but when are you marrying Byleth?”

The woman in question had had her eyes firmly fixed on the point where the walls met the floor, but after the inquisition she turned to Hapi. “Call him off.”

“No, he has a point, Chatterbox.”

“Of course I do,” Sylvain chimed in, then leaned close to Hapi’s ear to add, “for you,” in a stage whisper.

“Ew.” Byleth made a face.

“Get a room.”

“Well, we  _ had _ one, until you ruined it,” Sylvain jested, playfully sticking out his tongue. “C’mon, I’m taking you to bed. You deserve the  _ very best _ after you did so well in class.” Sylvain’s voice was sultry, low and rich in a way designed to leave nothing and everything to the imagination. He offered his hand to Hapi, who took it and laced their fingers together. Byleth and Felix looked away as the pair exited the water, then at each other once they were alone again.

Time for her to claim her earlier win. Byleth rose a little so the milky curves of her heavy chest were just visible above the clouded water. She cut through the water, stalking towards him with a hunger in her eyes that wouldn’t be sated until he’d been denied satisfaction. Byleth swung a leg over Felix to straddle him and inhaled sharply at the sensation of the cool breeze hitting her pert pink nipples. He brought a hand up to roll the hard nub in the v of his fingers. It would be so easy to let go of the control, to let him make both their bodies sing in pleasure while they moved in unison. But she’d earnt another chance to pay him back for his selfishness, and she was going to make him pay dearly.

Mmmm, but he did make it hard to concentrate. Byleth widened her knees to sit deeper in his lap and felt his hardness against her slick heat, so ready for him already. She wanted to sink onto him and ride him and -

Byleth dug her nails into her thigh. The pain was grounding. It allowed her to focus on the situation again, realising that her hips were rocking against him at a desperate pace, chasing release far too quickly for what she had in mind, although it might work to start. Felix buried his face in her neck, panting her name desperately as she brought him close in record time. Hands tried to grip her waist. She batted them away; he'd get what she gave him. Biting her lip made Felix groan and thrust up into her, his jaw set as he chased the tight coil in his gut.  _ Seiros, _ that brushed against her in all the right places, sending shivers down her spine that morphed into more frantic movements. Felix’s gaze was no less intense when glazed over with desire; it maintained a sharp focus that burned lines into her skin to follow the path of the hand she snaked between them. The slight furrow in his brow told her he was close, but Byleth loved to dance too close to the fire. She gripped his length firmly and pumped, watching for the telltale clench of his jaw before Felix pitched forwards in anticipation of an orgasm that never came.

Byleth stilled her hand, gripping his base tightly to deny him. Oh, he looked good like this, slouched forwards with a litany of swears and her name falling from his lips. Byleth deliberately slowed her breathing, willing him to mirror it, to bring him down from the precipice so she could build him up to it again. This time, she forced her body to still, his head at the tip of her entrance in an excruciating tease for them both. Her lips sucked bruises into his neck, down along his collarbone - a quick nip to punish him for canting his hips, a move she mirrored to taunt him - to seek their prize. She latched her mouth over one nipple, flicking her tongue over it in increasingly complicated patterns. Byleth kissed it goodbye, letting her teeth graze the sensitive flesh to enjoy the moan it drew from his ignored lips. She let her hands complete her job, lost in how the hot feeling of their breath mingling as they kissed left her unable to concentrate. Seeking more friction for herself, Byleth rubbed their chests together. The slide of their skin was eased by the hot spring and the sweat covering their bodies. Byleth had theorised she could make him come from just this, playing with his chest, and she nearly proved her point with a twist of his nipples. Felix growled, deep and low, but didn’t protest when she stopped moving.

The next time, she nearly messed up. Felix was perched on the ledge of the pool, her still in his lap. Felix had been so compliant, stopping when told,  _ behaving.  _ Had she not been so lost in her own pleasure, it would have registered as suspicious. Her walls fluttered as she neared the crest of her peak, head lolling on her shoulders as she struggled to remain rigid to finish herself. Felix bucked into her and she let him, trying to get him just  _ there _ to tip her over the edge before realising that her climax would likely trigger his.

“Bastard,” Byleth spat, breathless, in his ear. She sat perfectly still, their foreheads resting together as they controlled the heave of their chest and the need in their guts. Felix was crimson from the top of his head to the bottom of the trail of dense, curly dark hairs she loved to grip when swallowing him down. His long raven locks had fallen loose from their tie, plastered to his sweaty face. Byleth repeated the process, bringing Felix close but not all the way, relishing the increasingly devastated cries of her name, actual whimpers and sobs from the overstimulation. He was so completely wrecked beneath her, a beautiful picture of pure lust mixed with exertion, that Byleth couldn’t resist making him go one more round.

When she finally let him reach completion, her back was covered in scratches that would probably scar from the borderline painful intensity of pleasure she’d given him.


	5. Chapter 5

Out of habit, on the morning of the second full day since the storm started, Byleth padded the distance between their bed and the window to peek behind the curtains. It struck her then, the simple serenity of snow, and she blinked back the brilliance before her. Immediately, the blinding light of azure skies stabbed into her eyes, the sun’s radiance magnified by how it reflected off the blanket of white that covered as far as the eye could see.

The snowstorm had cleared. Damage to buildings was largely avoided, despite the many fallen trees strewn around. From this distance, the tenants and soldiers working to turn the once magnificent tamarack larches into fuel and lumber looked akin to the wooden carvings Byleth had played with so very long ago. Grooms from the stables harnessed the draft horses into modified ploughs to clear the worst of the drifts from the streets, important locations and the main road to Faerghus. Sylvain’s sienna mop contrasted sharply with the opalescent snow that reached up to his waist. His rambunctious younger self had once shamelessly invited her back to his room with a comment on how his waist sat rather perfectly  _ just _ under her buxom chest if she ever wanted to use it to ‘reward’ him for all his hard work.

She woke Felix. They dressed and ate without ceremony before offering themselves to the cleanup effort. More tactful now than his younger self, or perhaps more fearful of the consequences of such words, Sylvain did not comment on Byleth’s anatomy relevant to the snow, merely voicing concern that she would end up buried in the tall snow banks created as the team made roads and paths safe for passage. Sylvain accepted Felix’s help, sent Byleth to find Hapi, and the men busied themselves co-ordinating what they could to reconnect Gautier to the rest of Fódlan. Kingdom soldiers would be leaving Fhirdiad with their own horse snow ploughs soon, reestablishing the roads for travel to protect the important trade routes. Once they made it this far north, Byleth and Felix would be able to ride home.

The thought filled her with a pang of regret as she set off in search of Hapi. Spending time not only with Felix, but with their closest friends too, was always so effortless. It filled the emptiness that sometimes crept within her, chasing away any lingering pains from the war. She’d miss the burn in her arms from a good spar with her lover, the burn in her legs after they tangled in the sheets. She’d miss the dopey smile Sylvain flashed Hapi when he thought no-one else could see, the way her indifference lifted for just a second when he walked into a room. Goddess, they were so in love it was disgusting (sweet). Unbearable (adorable), even.

Byleth found Hapi with the house staff in the Gautier stores handing out extra grain, smoked meat and firewood to the women who queued for it. In spite of everything, she truly looked the part of Lady of the House, but she made it her own. Mucking in with the servants, listening to the complaints of her people, inspiring them all with a few words and a reassurance that if that cooper’s son didn’t get the message and leave the tailor’s daughter alone, she’d sigh some words at him until he did. Byleth sidled up to stores, slipping behind the tabling to assist Seraphina with fastening bundles of firewood with twine. The increase in efficiency meant they were done handing out supplies well before the sun they were unaccustomed to seeing had begun to set.

Shortly after, a soaked, snow covered Sylvain reappeared with a very smug looking Felix. Somehow, the explanation of how Sylvain ended up like that morphed into a reenactment. Staff joined their impromptu snowball fight, everyone enjoying the simple pleasures of the solid water that had fallen from the sky as if they were children once again, unburdened by the hardships they faced whilst Byleth slept and nobles battled for control of the country. Casual rivalries between the grooms and the groundskeepers were settled with volleys of white projectiles. The housekeeper punished her maids for poor jobs done with handfuls of snow down the back of their uniforms. Felix and Sylvain used their unfair height advantage to win the snow spar against Byleth and Hapi. The atmosphere was laden with merriment and cheer, the good natured fun occasionally interrupted by scathing jabs between Byleth and Felix until the kitchen porter had to call everyone in for dinner. The entire household, including kitchen staff, crowded into the dining room at Hapi’s behest. Byleth prefered the quiet solitude she and Felix normally sought out, but years spent at the Academy had also left her with a soft spot for a loud room filled with the simple sounds of people living.

Byleth flopped onto the bed that night, exhausted, her mind still whirling as she considered what Sylvain said about marriage the previous evening. Felix knew she wasn’t cut from the luxurious silks required to be the Lady of a house. She was sure that was why he hadn’t asked her to be Lady Fraldarius-Eisner. However, a role like the one Hapi had moulded for herself was one Byleth could actually see herself doing. She would need to be active, contributing, rather than dictating orders. Byleth tucked a wayward strand behind Felix’s ear before letting sleep claim her.

The rest of Byleth and Felix’s time at Gautier largely passed in a blur of laughter, fun and the belonging they both believed would escape them as warriors in a peaceful time. On the third day, the snow began to melt into ice. Paths were more perilous, but it was a sure sign of a change in the weather. Conditions had improved enough for a morning ride around the grounds, and in the afternoon Byleth and Felix discovered some more sword barrels while Hapi and Sylvain read books in the ground floor parlour.

Apparently, afternoons were a very busy time for the Head Chef, who was none too pleased when the quartet asked him to accommodate their request to make warming winter beverages on the fourth day. The portly older woman, hair the same grizzled grey as steel wool, begrudgingly cleared a bench of carrots and onions being prepared for the staff stew. She slammed down the spices and wine they’d need with such force Byleth was amazed the bottle didn’t smash.

“Ooh, cloves! And star anise. This is dried orange peel. Felix, chop the apple,” Hapi ordered, sniffing each muslin wrapped bundle to divine its contents. Byleth identified the cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg, laying them out in order on the bench while Hapi added the spices to the wine-filled pot Sylvain hung over a small fire. 

“Why are we doing this ourselves?” Sylvain complained, impatient as he waited for the mix of wine and spices to heat.

Hapi shot him a withering look as she stirred the contents. “Supernova, I thought you wanted a world where crests and status aren’t so important.”

“I do.” Hearing such earnestness in Sylvain’s voice was still a little disarming. He’d grown so much. “I also want us to do more research into yours.”

A dismissive wave shut him up for Hapi to continue. “So, if you want that change, where status isn’t important, why do you want staff to make drinks for you rather than make them yourself?”

“Point taken, beautiful.”

“Why do we still have house staff, anyway?” Hapi questioned. It was at odds with the vision Sylvain was trying to bring to the world, one schmoozed noble at a time. He’d become quite the skilled orator these days.

“I have my reasons,” Sylvain shot back with a wink.

“Care to share them?” Byleth chimed in as Felix ladled the mulled wine into goblets, passing them out.

“No.”

Hapi rolled her eyes and looked at Byleth, goblet of steaming mulled wine pressed to her lips. “Nobles,” she complained to anyone who would listen.

“Nobles,” Byleth agreed, shaking her head.

"If you feel like that, we'll fuck off then!" Sylvain downed the last of his drink and dragged a reluctant Felix out of the kitchen, goblet still in hand.

"'Nova, where are you taking him?"

"Guy stuff," Sylvain answered unhelpfully, leaving the women standing in the kitchen, confused at the unknowable idiots they loved.

Byleth and Hapi went their separate ways after the mulled wine. The housekeeper was taking her through the castle’s inventory. Hapi had begged Byleth to join for her sanity, but Byleth had to deal with enough of that at Garreg Mach. She took her leave and meandered through the halls, wandering aimlessly with her thoughts. Thoughts of what being Lady Fraldarius, the Duchess, would mean filled her head. Would she still have to be Archbishop? Would Seteth let her conduct the role from Fraldarius, or would her time continue to be split between the monastery and the various castles she called home? She’d be happy with Felix. The certainty of it sang from her bones. But could she be happy as a Duchess? Could she be happy juggling the twin titles of Archbishop and Duchess?

_ Seiros, _ what if she got pregnant? How would she juggle a territory, a church and  _ children? _

Fretting was getting her nowhere. And she was being unfair to Seteth. He was overbearing, to be sure, but he was a fantastic father under the circumstances. If she and Felix decided to have children, he’d do everything within his power to accommodate her needs. There was even still a chance she’d be able to convince him to allow Flayn to run the church.

Byleth was so absorbed in her thoughts she walked straight into Seraphina.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Your Grace.” Her tone held deference for her position, but the maid’s eyes sparkled as she maintained eye contact, and she didn’t apologise. Byleth really had grown fond of the woman these past few days.

“Sorry. It’s just Byleth. Not married,” Byleth corrected, showing Seraphina her ringless hand.

“Marriage isn’t all that, miss.”

“Byleth. Please. Goddess, I just need to feel normal right now.”

“Well, I can’t pretend to know how you’re feeling, Byleth, but I can understand wanting a bit of normality. So this once, I’ll call you Byleth.”

“Thanks.” The large hallways dwarfed Byleth’s petite figure, lost at sea as she was in her head. Her odd, melancholy mood slipped out from under her usual expressionless exterior.

“Should be thanking you myself, Byleth.”

The green haired woman let out a single chuff of laughter. “Oh? What for?”

“Well, I don’t know what you said, or what you did, but for this week at least, no-one’s got more of an eyeful of the Margrave than they wanted. Staff have been able to get on with jobs, opening closets without wondering what else they might find inside. We appreciate it.”

Her laughter was more convincing this time, her chest shaking with the sound. “Oh, Sylvain,” she said in the voice she’d only ever used when lamenting her teaching position with Maneula. It could have been worse, back then. She could have been in Manuela’s position, in charge of the  _ poetry club. _ Manuela never got paid anywhere near enough to listen to the drivel she repeated to Byleth over their emergency sanity “tea” parties. Manuela insisted it was still tea, even if the tea only made up one third of the liquid in the cup. Manuela deserved the extra two thirds of liquor for listening to the crimes Lorenz and his ilk committed against villanelles. She also insisted Byleth deserved the same too for putting up with Sylvain.

“Can we hope this change about claiming all the rooms in the house might truly be over?” Seraphina’s words cut through Byleth’s reverie.

“I’ll talk to them.”

“Much appreciated, Byleth.” Seraphina nodded her goodbye and walked off. Byleth watched her leave. The maid carried herself with more nobility than any of them could muster these days. What could she achieve, who could she be, if not tied to the antiquated systems Sylvain wanted to change?

Byleth was still pondering the answer when a pensive but determined Felix returned to their chambers that evening.

~~~

Sylvain was not gentle when he pulled Felix out of the kitchen. His goblet was still very full, and wine sloshed over the rim to splatter at his teal coat. The one with all the buckles that Byleth loved, that was truly awful to get dirt out of.

“You’re cleaning that.” He didn’t disguise the irritation in his voice.

“Sure, I’ll get one of the maids on it,” Sylvain responded, leading him purposefully through the hallways. Where were they going? Also, why didn’t Sylvain make a quip about it being his fault for not drinking quicker?

Felix tried to take a sip as he was dragged around like a hound on a leash, succeeding in half drowning himself with an unexpected gulp instead. At least Sylvain stopped to clap him on the back while he was coughing.

“You good buddy? Not gonna die on me?”

“Let me walk by myself and it’s more likely,” Felix grumbled.

Sylvain compromised by throwing an arm over his shoulder, draping his large figure over the smaller swordsman. He leaned heavily on Felix to make the swordsman go left, pulled him sideways if he wanted Felix to go right. The route they were taking made no sense. If he didn’t know better, Felix would think Sylvain was drunk. Every so often, they would stop outside a storage closet and Sylvain would cock his head before shaking it and moving on.

“Where are we going, Sylvain? What’s the point of this wander through the halls?”

“You’ll see when we get there.” Sylvain wasn’t slurring. Felix glanced up to the base of his friend’s neck. None of the usual heat that coloured his friend’s neck was visible, so he clearly wasn’t drunk. Just completely stupid.

“Do you even know where ‘there’ is? All this back and forth makes me think that you don’t,” Felix said after they walked past the same suit of armour for the third time.

“I’ll know when we get there, Fe.” The arm on his shoulder reached up and ruffled his hair. Felix didn’t pull away. Something in Sylvain’s tone and his cagy actions raised Felix’s hackles. He clenched his fists, tolerating Sylvain’s unbearable heat leaning into his side until they apparently found where they were going.

“After you,” Sylvain gestured with a hand.

Felix crossed his arms over his chest, fixing Sylvain with a stare.

“C’mon Fe, don’t be like that. There’s a point to this, I promise,” Sylvain whined, clearly hoping to annoy Felix into submission. It had worked in the past, after all.

“Why weren’t any of the first seven closets okay?”

Sylvain relaxed his posture at the question, but his hand still came up to rake through his hair. “I, ah, didn’t think you’d want to be trapped in a closet where Hapi and I...”

“DON’T. Finish that,” Felix pinched his nose as he cut his friend off. “And you haven’t, in this one?”

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll get in the damn closet. Stop torturing your staff like that, too. Why a closet?”

Sylvain followed him in, closing the door behind them. For a second, the only things they could sense were the overwhelming smell of burning alcohol and the quiet sounds of their breathing. The silence of the room betrayed the men’s nerves; without the background noises of the castle it was clear both were breathing slightly quicker than usual.

The scent of extinguished candles filled the closet as Sylvain’s controlled flame of fire magic cast long shadows around them. Sylvain might have been practised at hiding behind masks, but to those who he allowed to be close to him, he was an open book. The way he chewed his lip meant there was something he needed to say, but didn’t know how. The furrow in his brow, how he looked straight at the floor rather than meet Felix’s eyes, meant it was about Felix. The nervous bounce meant it was bad.

Sylvain looked up at the ceiling (preparation), took a deep breath (steeling himself), and met Felix’s eyes, his face soft and unassuming, as he asked the question he was building up to. The tiniest hint of sadness hid in his brown eyes.

“Is...Uh,” Sylvain looked back down at the floor, shaking his head. “You know you can tell me anything and I won’t judge, right?”

Felix didn’t need to see the warm sincerity in Sylvain’s eyes to respond. “Yes. After all  _ you’ve _ done,” Felix poked Sylvain in the chest with a smug smile, “you have no right to judge.”

“Fair,” Sylvain breathed, gearing up for whatever terrible thing came next. At least if the focus was on Felix, this conversation probably wasn’t about how Hapi couldn’t conceive and Felix had been a bastard for bringing it up multiple times during his stay. Despite being sure he and Byleth would know as soon as Sylvain and Hapi did, the fear had flitted through his head, consciously banished as quickly as it appeared.

“Fe - Felix. I get it, you guys are separated for such a long time. I’d understand.”

_ What in the eternal flames was he babbling about? _ The nerves didn’t bode well for when Sylvain finally asked the question he kept dancing around.

“Is there someone else?” Sylvain stabbed the sword of the question directly into his heart, and Felix stepped back from the weight of the implications.

“What the  _ fuck, _ Sylvain?” Felix growled, his voice dangerous.

The redhead’s arms flew up defensively. “I didn’t think there was! But Felix, if there isn’t anyone else, you gotta help me understand. Why are you still a Fraldarius?”

_ “Excuse me!?” _

Sylvain laughed to diffuse the seething anger rolling off Felix in waves. The room was too small for such strong emotions. “We all know the Professor wouldn’t give up her name. Felix Hugo Fraldarius-Eisner. Eisner-Fraldarius. Byleth Fraldarius-Eisner. Use that one, it works better for both of you. Goddess, as if your name wasn’t enough of a mouthful already.”

Felix could tell his general fierce demeanour wasn’t helping Sylvain’s nerves. “It’s...complicated.”

“Ah Felix, it always is. Sometimes, you just have to go for it.”

“Our names aren’t just names. They’re feudal responsibilities.” Felix paused, and for a second, Sylvain saw the young kid who used to run to him crying whenever his world fell apart. Felix’s voice was barely audible when he asked, “What if she says no?”

“Then Hapi will murder her with Hades for being an idiot, sigh to make it look like some beasts did it, and we’ll go to town, pick up some girls until it feels better. I’d need to wait until my girl was free again, though, but the plan’s foolproof.”

Felix scoffed. He did it again, and by the third time he’d broken into genuine laughter. “Why are we having this conversation in a closet?”

“I’m not gonna tempt fate. Don’t want anyone to overhear my  _ foolproof _ plan to assassinate the Archbishop.”

Felix burst into an honest to Sothis  _ giggle fit _ and Sylvain took a moment to enjoy his friend’s glee. “Also, because Byleth did this to me. Pulled me into a closet and made me realise I was creating stupid imaginary boundaries to my own happiness. I get that there’s the distance, and the church thing, but you’ll make it work.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Are you kidding me Fe? The pair of you are so focused, so single minded that you won’t  _ let  _ it not work.”

There was a reassuring truth in that. Marriage could be just like sword fighting, a skill they would both need to work on, but that they could spend the rest of their lives honing, together.

“Hapi can have kids, right?” Felix asked. If they were talking about this sort of stuff, he might as well find out the answer. Sylvain nodded. “So why haven’t you?”

“Oh Fe,” Sylvain laughed. “Didn’t want to leave you behind.”

Felix didn’t know what to say to that. If he thought about it,  _ Sylvain _ as a father,  _ married, _ to a woman he loved no less...yeah. Ingrid and Dimitri were different. He expected them to be ahead of him. Not Sylvain though.

“Thanks, ‘Vain,” Felix regressed to using his childhood nickname. It seemed appropriate, after everything.

“Any time, Fe. That’s what friends are for.”

~~~

By the time the sun rose on the fifth morning, life had returned to normal for the Gautier estate. Faerghus was made of hardy people, the people of Gautier were the hardiest of all. Winters were harsh here, whilst being cut off from supply lines was less than ideal those tenants who called the land home knew how to survive the time between a blizzard and the arrival of the Kingdom clearing crew. The friends whiled away the short time between dawn and dusk with board games, taunting matches and more comments about the prospect of children in Gautier or wedding bells in Faldarius, Felix getting considerably redder until he stormed out of one such conversation. Sylvain followed him, and when everyone reconvened for dinner the whole thing was forgotten.

Heavy hooves on the paved roads to the Castle roused Byleth and Felix on the sixth day, each clipping step adding to the heavy weight of their hearts. The Kingdom soldiers had made it Gautier. Roads were once again safe to travel. With that knowledge, Byleth and Felix were no longer safe from their responsibilities. Fraldarius would be about a day’s ride away in snowy conditions. They would get mere hours there together. Worse still, most of them would be wasted sleeping.

As always, Byleth wished they had more time.

If the Margrave and Margravine weren’t at breakfast, it was likely the couple wouldn’t be able to say their goodbyes. Felix packed their belongings quickly, neatly stuffing everything into the saddle bags whilst Byleth went to prepare the horses by herself. Fun as the last week had been, Byleth didn’t fancy explaining to Seteth that the reason she’d missed yet another Parental Discourse open evening, risking political unrest as a result, was because she’d been too distracted by Felix’s hips and fell straight to her knees for a second time. Seteth had an uncanny ability to know when she was lying about sex being at fault for her absence at whichever important thing she’d missed this time, so eventually Byleth stopped lying and started telling him the truth. The reprimands were worth the way Seteth’s eyes bugged out of his head from the shock, mortified at a mix of her frankness and actions.

She’d have to remember to tell Seteth all about the  _ immeasurable _ self control she’d shown by avoiding a compromising situation altogether. Amaymon turned to look at her when she laughed at herself, still so concerned about the man’s damn opinion. It was probably because of his striking resemblance to Saint Cichol. Byleth sighed as she checked the horses over one last time, testing the knots that lashed the saddle bags Felix dropped off to the metal D rings at the back.

“Back to the monastery soon, Amy,” Byleth murmured, giving his neck a pat. She felt his answering sigh in her bones.

“Breakfast is served, miss,” Seraphina called from the stable door. Byleth started towards her. “ _ Faster _ than that, miss, if you intend to eat before the men scoff it all.”

Byleth paused when she was level with the maid. “Bye, Seraphina. Thank you for...” Byleth waved her hand in a gesture that meant everything, “and keep them in line for me?”

“You asking as their friend or the Archbishop?” Seraphina queried, her eyes sharp and calculating. Byleth saw a lot of herself in them.

“Both. You have my permission to use any means necessary, too.”

Seraphina nodded, plans dancing in her bright eyes. “Come back promptly, you hear?”

“I’d like that,” Byleth said over her shoulder, already moving on. “But my schedule isn’t my own to decide.”

A derisive snort told her what Seraphina thought of that. “Enough of your excuses, miss. You’re the Archbishop. Make it work.”

_ Make it work _ echoed in her thoughts throughout breakfast. She arrived just in time to snag the last two pastries from out of Sylvain’s hands. If only it were that easy. She had her duties, as did Felix.  _ Make it work _ danced at the edge of her thoughts as she spread butter and jam on her toast, chatting with her friends about nothing as if it was the most important conversation in the world. In the dining room, with her closest friends and lover, it was.

_ Make it work. _

Could it be that simple? Were they able to just decide what they wanted and bend the world around it? Was it acceptable to make the clergy wait so she could tuck herself into Felix’s strong arms? Is it possible to delay the harvest and count of a territory for a spar followed by a pot of tea in the gardens, miles away from where the work needed to be done? It felt awfully selfish to her.  _ Make it work. _ Did it have to be selfish, for them to spend time together?

Byleth watched as Hapi scolded Sylvain for a tiny slight, he shot her puppy eyes until her stern face broke into a brilliant smile and she put a handful of whipped cream in his hair. Against all odds, Hapi and Sylvain had made it work. It was  _ work, _ too, on both their parts. And a promise of a lifetime to grow, and love, and support together. Byleth and Felix were no strangers to hard work.

“We should leave before we get dragged into their food fight, By. The one I survived at the Academy was enough.” Felix stood, dodging Hapi’s creamy attempt at a hug to make his way round to Byleth.

“As if you didn’t start your fair share in the summers you spent in these very halls, looking far too pleased with yourself for getting cake in Glenn’s hair.”

Byleth’s eyebrows shot up, interested, and Felix deflected. “You two are so sweet it makes my teeth hurt.”

“Love you too, Fe. Safe journey.”

“Come home soon,” Hapi implored Byleth. The vice around her heart tightened. It hit her harder when Hapi said it, her eyes glistening from the moisture that threatened to track the wet evidence of her carefully controlled emotions down her cheeks. “Or don’t. See if I care,” she added with a shrug, trying to brush it off.

Byleth managed a wave and a smile, the knot clawing in her throat preventing words from escaping her. She and Felix left the dining room for the final time of their stay. They walked past a sparring barrel for the final time of their stay. Of course their eyes met as they did, but Byleth shook her head, and he understood. They needed to be on their way. Byleth casually flipped off the portrait of her least favourite Gautiers when they walked past for the final time of their stay. She’d miss the opportunity back at the monastery. Her legs carried her by rote towards the training grounds, and she corrected her course for the last time this stay, jogging back to where Felix had stopped to wait for her to realise her mistake with an incredibly smarmy look on his face. Byleth opened the stable door for the last time this trip, breathed in the crisp, northern air for the last time this trip, and convinced herself the ache in her chest was from the chilled air in her lungs. Felix saw right through her.

“Missing them already?”

She hesitated before answering. “I’m away too long. From my home. From my friends. From those menaces.” Byleth gestured back at the house. “From you.”

_ Then don’t leave, _ his eyes said, but Felix just nodded in understanding. Not leaving wasn’t an option. Byleth resolved to speak to Seteth when she got back to ensure it  _ was  _ an option next time. “Remind me why we didn’t travel here by carriage?” Felix huffed, the prospect of an entire day in the saddle already souring his mood.

“Because I love Amy more than you,” Byleth quipped. On cue, her black stallion turned to look down at Felix. “Also, he’s just unmanageable if I’m not around.”

“He’s still unmanageable when you are around.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” Byleth cooed, scratching between Amaymon’s eyes.

"I do," Felix objected. Byleth noticed him tense at the words. It would have been an imperceivable change to many, but so much of their communication was nonverbal cues. He was more on edge than usual about her leaving. Or it could be the impending ride. Felix had been unusually pensive the last couple of days, staring off into the distance and avoiding her eyes when Byleth caught him looking at her weirdly. 

Byleth stopped fussing over Amaymon to hold his horse so he could mount up. She still hadn’t convinced him to pick one for his own, so the poor reddish-brown bay creature whose ears she was scratching behind was one of his estate’s general mounts. Byleth hadn’t had time to ask the grooms what it - shocked at herself, she quickly glanced between the bay’s legs to check -  _ she _ was called, and Felix definitely wouldn’t know.

“If you keep staring at her like she bites, she will bite you, Felix.” No response.

A few minutes later, “Never thought I’d see Felix Hugo Fraldarius bested by a simple beast.”

After five minutes total had elapsed, Byleth abandoned playful patience in favour of the no-nonsense approach. “Felix, I swear if you don’t get on this horse now I will tie you over her back and take your Sword of Zoltan for my own.”

Predictably, threatening to take his beloved sword got him to answer. The odd look was back in his eyes. Part steely determination, bizarrely mixed with a faraway stare, a hint of uncharacteristic uncertainty, a dash of longing shaken over Felix’s usual intensity. It was unsettling. A cocktail that gnawed at her gut as surely as it burnt a hole in Felix. “I need ten minutes first. Away from here. I can’t ride like this, these assholes can tell when something is up.”

_ So can I, _ Byleth thought but said nothing. She passed the mare back to a groom and followed the raven haired swordsman out of the stables. A sharp right, round the back of the building to where the grazing pastures were. Felix twisted in the air as he vaulted over the fence, the crunch of snow underfoot counteracting any stealth from his assassin training. Byleth ducked through the fence, keeping Felix within sight as he stalked towards the woods for no goddess damned reason when they should be leaving. “Fucking Fraldariuses,” Byleth muttered loudly enough for the footfalls she heard behind her to cease abruptly. It was too little, too late, she already knew they were there. Hapi had learnt from one of the best, but Sylvain was far too loud to succeed in creeping up on her.

~~~

Hapi playfully hit Sylvain on the shoulder, her mild annoyance showing. “What part of  _ silent _ don’t you understand, ‘Nova? You used to do so much sneaking out of rooms I thought you’d be good at this.”

“Getting out of a room unnoticed, in a nice warm building, is completely different to trailing those two without being seen. There’s the snow, for one thing, and -”

His wife’s arms were crossed, unimpressed with his excuses like she always was. When his parents were like that, Sylvain did his utmost to piss them off more, but from Hapi it drove him crazy with the need to impress her. And the need for something else. The stance pushed her chest out a little more than should be decent and Sylvain had to remind himself not to get distracted from the reason they were out here. “Okay, okay. C’mon, we’re falling behind, and I don’t want to miss Felix lost for words.”   
  


“You sure he’s gonna...y’know...and we aren’t going to walk in on them?”

“How much trouble will I be in for listing the various more suitable places for them to fuck if we haven’t used some of them?” Sylvain teased.

“Less than you will be if we miss this.”

Sylvain nodded. “You didn’t even spot them leaving the stables! But yeah, I’m sure. No idea why he didn’t do it yesterday, or this morning, but I know Felix. There’s a new hole in the library carpet from his pacing, and we’re gonna need two more training dummies after his nerves. He stormed off with purpose, he’s going to do it.”

“I still think he’s just trying to avoid being on horseback. But if you’re right, bet he fucks it up somehow,” Hapi smiled, knowing how much he struggled with emotions like she did.

“Of  _ course _ he will, why do you think I’m following?”

“To be a supportive shoulder to cry on?”

Sylvain snorted. “Flames no, that’s not the Faerghan way. I need to be there to witness the mess first hand, so I can never let him forget it. ‘Oh Dimitri, Ingrid, you should have been there. Felix was so nervous he tripped and knocked himself out.’”

“She’s getting away, ‘Nova.”

~~~

Snow brushed off the dense branches of trees, dusting Felix’s coat with the powdery white substance. He pushed forwards towards some unknown destination, unbothered by the wetness of his coat. Byleth followed Felix exactly; without a path to guide her she wasn’t confident in her abilities to find her way if she lost him. He stopped at the charred remains of a tree once struck by lightning, scouring the base of the tree for something, before storming off straight ahead. A particularly vicious branch twanged back at her face, her forearms barely coming up in time to protect her face. Trunks sprang up haphazardly, too randomly spaced for anything other than nature to have put them there, but clear evidence of coppicing was visible when Byleth could risk a glance upwards.

After more than ten minutes, the cedars, maples, birches and pines gave way to shrubs. Overhead, the break in the canopy allowed the visible rays of cold sunshine to beam down into the clearing. Animal tracks disturbed the snow, evidence of the life they could hear about them in the woods. Snapping twigs could suggest larger prey, or some of Gautier territory’s more dangerous inhabitants (wolves and boar), but Byleth spotted a glimpse of red hair in the distance.

Felix stood in the middle of the clearing, his back to her as she closed the distance between them. He was the centre of her world, the point around which everything else moved. Felix mirrored every step forward that she took, engaged in a twisted version of a child’s game where she could never catch up to him, doomed forever to be apart.

Seraphina’s words,  _ Make it work, _ echoed in her ears again.

Tackling Felix would stop him moving away. Some blasts of magic ahead of him to slow him down. The familiar, comforting weight of the sword of the creator hung by her hip, reminding Byleth of the option to flick the whip until it wrapped around a limb so she could yank it back. The gnawing feeling in her gut intensified when none of her carefully weighed up options were necessary. Felix stopped abruptly, still facing away from her, and breathed deeply while he prepared to talk about something big.

Silence weighed on her shoulders in Gautier territory and once again, Byleth found herself understanding some fundamental truths about Sylvain. Desperate to break it, Byleth blurted out, “Are you running from me? I’d rather you talked about it.”

“And I’d rather Sylvain bothered to train so I can have a worthy sparring partner when you aren’t here, but we can’t always get what we want.”

Byleth bit the inside of her cheek. At least the scathing tone was relatively normal, if you avoided how Felix’s voice started to break on the word “want.”

“I can’t do this anymore, By.” He began to fidget, hands shoved into his pockets as he searched for something. The tense in his forearm betrayed when he found it, tightening his hand around the object. Byleth held her hand out ready to receive whatever form his rejection came in. “I need more than six days of waking up next to the woman I love in exchange for months apart.”

Felix spun around, removing the item from his pocket as he dropped to one knee. “I need to be yours, and for you to be mine, and for us to find a way to be  _ together,  _ not separated. Byleth Eisner, spar with me. Forever. To keep both our skills sharp. Marry me. Please?”

Byleth’s eyes were still trained on the item in his hand, offered to her as a symbol of their love. So  _ this _ is what that odd look had been about. Byleth didn’t really care about traditions, and it was a fitting item to describe them. Felix’s eyes darted from her bemused face to the object in his hand. He’d grabbed the whetstone rather than the ring, safely stored in a box roughly the same size. A rose coloured tint took up residence on his face, the shock clear from his wide eyes and slackjaw expression. “I didn’t mean - I have a - Goddess, let me do this again?” he groaned.

“No,” Byleth said, and Felix’s face fell. “Because it was already perfect.”

Byleth dropped to her knees too and pulled Felix into a kiss. She could feel the smile on his lips. “Just to clarify, if I marry you, do I  _ have _ to be called Duchess and do all the noble shit?”

Felix laughed heartily. He looked truly relaxed in a way she’d never seen before. She wondered how many more times she’d get to see serenity on his face in the rest of their life together. “If I have to do it, so do you.”

A playful smile teased at Byleth’s lips. “We could run away to be mercenaries?”

“No! If I have to learn to be a lady, you do too.”

Felix turned towards the sound of Hapi’s voice. The redheads were tangled together at the edge of the clearing, grinning like the cats that got the cream. They had no right to look as proud or smug as they did, but from her position leaning against her fiancé Byleth found that she didn’t really mind.

Accepting his whetstone felt like the first step towards  _ making it work. _ The second was returning back to their respective duties to spread the news and devise a plan so they could be together. Travel options and the practicalities of running a church or a territory from the road were buzzing around her brain as she tried to arrange the possibilities in her head, just as if she was drafting battle formations. Felix took off in a direction that wouldn’t lead him to the castle or the stables.

“Fe, where are you going? Fraldarius is that way, and a long walk,” Sylvain pointed.

“I’m marching to that damn monastery to tell Seteth I’m bringing my wife home.”

“You’re not even married yet,” Hapi added.

“A technicality.”

Byleth shook her head. “It’s a longer walk than Fraldarius without a horse, Felix.”

“I’m making a grand statement. Of course I didn’t mean I’d literally march to Garreg Mach.”

“He totally would march to Fraldarius to avoid a horse, though,” Sylvain let slip. Felix threw a hastily constructed snowball at him, the icy projectile narrowly missing Sylvain’s face as it flew over his shoulder.

Byleth stored her whetstone safely in the inner pocket of her coat, shivering as the cold hit her skin before she did it back up again. “Keep Amy for me? After that, I should probably let him take a carriage back.”

Sylvain was on his knees, hands pressed together in front of him. “Byleth Eisner, Enlightened One, please. If there was ever anything between us,  _ please _ make Felix walk to the monastery for you.”

She shot him a wry smile. “I’m tempted. If it was summer, I would. But I need all of him in tact.”

“Course you do, Chatterbox.” Hapi shot her a wink straight out of her husband’s repertoire.

“For  _ sparring.” _

_ “Bedroom _ sparring.”

Byleth shot them both a fond eyeroll and walked away to take her fiancé’s arm before their long carriage ride home.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Felilethmas! Thank you to everyone for your hard work


End file.
